Happy Depressing Hour!

I am not tired and I should be. I totally should be tired right now.
It’s ten thirty. Why am I not tired?
Could it possibly be related to the fact that I had three sodas today? I am such a pig. I knew I shouldn’t have had that one at Togo’s. But I wanted the chips, and it was a combo deal… So I got a root beer with Pepsi and Dr Pepper added.
I’m listening to the radio. I found a new station. It’s great, although a little fuzzy. But it’s the kind of music I like.
Oh, this ad is so horribly unrealistic. Yeah, yeah, I’m so sure that every guy is gonna rush to buy diamond earrings for his girlfriend upon hearing it.
Uh-oh.
Note to self: do not mention boys unless you want to spiral down a lonely, hate-filled path. Did I mention my favorite lyrics are the chorus to “Ready, Aim, Misfire” by New Years Day? Yeah, they are. If you look up the lyrics, you will understand. Put it this way—I have crushed on somewhere between seventeen and twenty guys. One became my boyfriend. The most I ever got was a hug. No kissing, no holding hands, no dating. I’ve become fairly depressed in regards to my love life.
And I would be more optimistic about getting a boyfriend this year, except that the guys at school…well, I won’t say anything against them. I’m just not that interested in anybody at school. I might say yes to certain people, but I’m not going out to get any one of them. And the guys at hockey…there’s only one I can think of, or actually two, that would even have the slightest possibility of asking me out and I don’t like one of them and the other one is not only kind of the quiet type but, I dunno, it seems like guys who play hockey don’t date girls on the same team.
I wish.
And I’m talking about this while a racy discussion is going on behind me. I’m all alone in the house (well, technically the other 3 people are here, just asleep), and so apparently the DJs discuss *ahem* questionable topics. I don’t suppose this is illegal, but still. It’s annoying to have to listen to all of this…there is no word to describe all of this. Apparently these two DJs give out advice on this stuff.
I’m ignoring it as much as possible until the music comes back on.
Now I’m going to explain why this says I posted it in the morning. I wrote it at night when I have no internet access. I typed it up on Word and then I pasted it onto the blog. I wish I could be like my friend Odd Becca and just stay up all night on the internet but you know, some people don’t have entire downstairs apartments to themselves with an extra computer that has internet access at all hours. My parents check on me.
It sucks. Thanks for your concern.
Oh, and now there’s this dude who is addicted to painkillers talking to them. Apparently his friend broke a leg and then gave him the extra painkillers, and then when he had an operation it somehow activated this addiction…uh I don’t quite understand the situation.
But whatever. I wish I could draw, but I don’t want to risk turning on my lamp because my mom is sick and might get up in the middle of the night, and my dad is sleeping in the living room, which my room is right next to. So I suppose I’ll go to sleep.
……..So much for that. I am super bored. Super bored. Super super super super bored. La lalalala lala lla lalal a lalla lalla la ala mode ice cream pie yum dessert oh candy…
Oops, I shouldn’t have had that third soda. We’re back where we started. My tragic love life…T.T
And what makes it even more tragic is that I’m addicted to shojo manga, so I read all these wonderful stories about girls and guys living happily ever after. Ah, whatever the heck. Whatever. Gyaaaugh. Blooomf. Sheeeargy. Booooooooonk. Igglewimpfuly.
For those who know me, you know this affliction that plagues me. “Imaginationitis”.
Caused by an excess amount of imagination, boredom, and creative outlets combined. Incurable. Diagnosed by the making up of unreal words.
Oh excellent! Music!
Goddamn. It was just the lead-in for back to the racy panel.
Whatever. I’m going to try and go to sleep.