I just got a little bit of orange in my eye. At least it woke me up.
You know those nights when you just don't want to get anything done? When you kinda just want to sit around and feel like crap? I wish those nights didn't exist. This would make chemistry so much easier. Instead I'm blogging. How does that make any sense.
I haven't talked to him in a month. This somehow doesn't clue him in to me not liking him. It somehow gives him reason to call me and leave a long voicemail about hanging out. I thought he was supposed to be mature. I personally believe that you only come upon real maturity if you recognize a second party ignoring you as a sign of their deep hatred of you.
So, being 10 years younger than him, I'm still a lot more mature.
It seems insane.
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