I'm worried that my family is reading these journal entries and wondering what a strange person they produced. What strange imaginations go through her head. How she doesn't always make sense. Well, to you I say you'll have to take the bad with the good. My saddest two sentence entries with the great 8 paragraph ones.
In other news I might get a job. I'm almost afraid. I'm afraid I'll get in a dead end job and remain trapped there for the rest of my life. Bagging groceries. Making cold calls. Serving up fish at Luby's.
But there's another part of me that says just get a job and stop whining already. As of late that part of me has won. So I go forth to get a job.
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