The Bag of Blowpops in My Car Is Comprised Solely of the Grape Flavored Kind.

At this point, everything is essentially how I thought it would be. And that blows. I’m in a less than stellar mood about it, in fact. I hate when I’m depressed for very good reasons because there is nothing I can do about it, whereas if I’m depressed for no reason at all there’s nothing that’s stopping me from cheering up. Ice cream will not cut it, I’m afraid. Wouldn’t hurt, but wouldn’t solve anything. It’s an enigma I can’t quite solve.

(But I’m ever so slightly less angry. )


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