Thursday, August 8

I'm going to be.

An hour ago, I had quality things to blog.
Now whatever I was about to write sounds superficial.
Told Glenn not to call me Little One because it would be confusing when the whole class gets together. He said it could be Little One and Little Two. I said I already have other nicknames.
Called me Little One the next day and I was like Glenn! We already agree not to.
Hasn't called me Little One since. Bloody obedient. (Y)

Still yet to think of a nickname for him. I'm dry, to be honest.

Chef Dale is such a cutie pie. I can't even. Especially when he smiles. Omgosh so handsome. Whatever he bangs out just tastes so goddamn good. He doesn't even need to know the menu.


Laughed really hard to myself about something else in time when a big girl with horrible body odor and infected toe nails farted in class while bending down to pick her pen up. Whoever sat next to her moved away a little. Apparently it stinks.
I feel so bad when I found out. I was the only one who didn't hear it. Wtf.


Wake up, chill & chores, school, sleep. Wake up, school, dinner & dishes & whatever im needed for, sleep. Wake up, chill & chores, school, sleep. Wake up, school, dinner & dishes & whatever im needed for, sleep.
My weekly timetable. It's sad, really.

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