Starts out sorta bitchy, but by the end I lose fucking control...

29 September, 2002 || 10:47 pm

I don't like being up at 10:47 on a Sunday night. I'm usually awake, yes, but rarely am I physically up. Why, you may ask, am I up at 10:47 on a Sunday evening? I'll ask you a question in response to that.

Now, guess who forgot to do her math homework?!?!?!

Shall we have another question? Let's shall.

And guess who has math first period, tomorrow morning?!?!?!

Hell, third time's the charm, right?

Isn't biology this biggest waste of time, ever in the history of the world?!?!?!

I know, I know, y'all expected some sort of math question or somesuch thing. Yeah, well I expected to be in bed, right now. I also expected to be picked up, in Saratoga, when rehearsal ended at 8:30. Not 8-fucking-45!!

In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not fond of being late for things. I'm also not fond of other people being late for things where I am involved. If I'm having some friends over, and someone comes a little late, no big fucking deal. But on a fucking Sunday night, when everybody just wants to go fucking home, don't be fucking late picking me fucking up from fucking rehearsal. DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?? HAVE I MADE MYSELF QUITE FUCKING CLEAR??

Good.

Now try to tell my parents that.

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