It's always my fault.
You're driving me to insanity.I have a pimple breakout. Serves me right for laughing at so many people. Retribution. Karma. What goes around comes around. When my Art research pieces get returned to me I'd show you what I mean. Now I can't market my trusty green stick to Lester.
Catching up with the St Nicks people was good. Long walks, long talks. Canteen food never tasted so good, I've never been so happy in such crowded situations.
I feel like a frump. Frumpy, mumpy, down in the dumps. I want to weedle under my comforter and drown my sorrows in sleep. Maybe when I awake I'd look better.
Pish. Must be punishment for failing to recognise people and hence ignoring them.
I have a nice pencilcase. My Amigo's arriving this week. I got my Panasonic back. I have new bikinis, shoes and clothes to buy. I even have the money to purchase them.
But no mood lah, pimples blooming like air is fertilizer. Iron supplements making me bloat like helium balloon.
Fugly fugly fugly.
9:50:00 pm