I am now twenty. I spent my birthday oversleeping the alarm and running to my Biochemistry class. I am currently writing a lesson plan for tomorrow's Biology SAT II class.
Afterwards: flash cards for the anatomy of the eye, biochemistry reading, finding ways to get the required readings for Japanese history for free, organic chemistry reading and problems.
All of this should read: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
My cousin told me she baked a cake. She wished me happy birthday at midnight. I love her. My father wished me happy birthday too via overtly sentimental text. I celebrated by eating the same thing I eat all the time: sandwiches, water.
My roommates couldn't guess when my birthday was because I wouldn't tell them. Then I went into irritable old man mode and said I had work to do, so leave me alone. I am terrible.
My best friend is pretty distant these days because I don't talk to her, because I don't find talking to her very rewarding. She's just really boring. Or. I don't understand the way she thinks.
No one wants in on my head. It's kind of a bleak place.
Chipper chipmunk says: "YOU COULD BE HAPPY IF YOU TRIED."
I'm too busy not eating lunch to save money and trying to find a third job whilst failing to get into medical school. Up your furry ass.
ON THE UPSIDE, I found the two real staples of my diet--Tower Isle's Jamaican Hot Beef Patties and Lao Gan Ma Black Bean Chili Oil--are united by a key ingredient: MSG.