That is the only part of the song I know. We used to sing it at each other back in apartment 27. Not to each other. At each other. At.
("I'm so fustrated! This is just so fustrating!")
I went and talked to a hair lady while Stephanie was getting her hair done wedding style. The red won't come out. I have to bleach it out and then dye it again. The process is smelly, long, and damaging. And I have to pay them fifty dollars for it. Humph.
Its twelve hour tuesday. Nuff said.
Emotion: Ripped in freaking half
As opposed to simply torn. You know. Torn is when you can't choose a flavor of cream cheese. This is not cream cheese. This is realizing every single day that there is one more person you may not ever see again after the next three weeks. This is realizing that ninety percent of the people I know will graduate before I come back here. This is loving my job and quitting anyway. This is missing my family and wanting Logan. This is not cream cheese. This is ripped in freaking half.
Amused is how I feel when Collin bugs me all day about setting him up on dates, and tries to facebook stalk people with me, and goes to his office to calculate how much money he spends on dates in a year.
This is how I feel when he comes back out of the office and tells me it comes out somewhere around Four Thousand dollars. That's right. He is not a tightwad, but still single.
Emotion: Incandescently Happy.
That is how I felt all day. I dreamed in poetry and prose and woke up smiling. And it continued all day until Osanna told me this afternoon at work that I looked like I was "having a very good happy!.... wait."
Soo,... have a very good happy and thank yer, ladies and gentlemen.