as i sit here listening to my roommate and her boyfriend talk about popping each other's zits, i can't help but feel intensely lovesick. how many nights have i lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling, wanting someone there to cuddle and point out my pus-oozing whiteheads and then offer to de-pus them?
and while i'm at it, i would like to publicly apologize to ex-roommate sarah for completely flaking out on her. we were going to go downtown and i was going to give her a ride but i got hit with a wave of severe fatigue and pooped out, so she didn't take the early bus and i feel like a dipshit.
i'm writing a story and i very much enjoy it. i'll post it up here when i'm done.
everyone is gone and i want to get drunk but not by myself because that's unfun and i'll just end up depressed. alas, that's looking like my only option to rid myself of this horrid evening.
oh, melodrama.