Writing this blog is way easier than trying to lure a hard-headed Chihuahua puppy into my bedroom to prevent any distractions from happening.
Brothers + Sisters of the International Social Scene:
Three days ago, we, the American golf team, beat the European Union golf team by 1.5 points to regain the Ryder Cup trophy. (And, yes, Grandma and I saw it). That night was the first time I ate a lamb chop in my life. And, boy, was it delicious.
Two days ago, I bought Jojo Moyes’ novels, Me Before You and After You, and James Dashner’s fifth and final novel of his Maze Runner Series, The Fever Code, at Walmart that night, leading to yesterday’s anger-induced racist rant-filled relapse, after Jackie accused me of stealing money from the gift card Aunt Deborah in HI gave to Mom and Pops, leading to cleaning my room the rest of the day yesterday to prevent me from saying worthless regretful shit to anyone else. I just didn’t have anymore time nor anymore energy to be angry over my mom owing me a pint of ice cream and 50 bucks. Let me say that, as an adult, talking back leads to a lot of sadder shit, like being a lesbian for the rest of my life after jail, so I’m glad I didn’t.
I just updated my phone apps. A couple times, the phone restarted on me when I tried to add Facebook to my micro SD card storage. But the updates were done, nevertheless.
I have knots in my left hand + in the upper left of my back. Time to grab the ibuprofen. There’s 4 left. Time for another bottle.
I should be writing some more, but, right now, my left hand is acting foolishly, so I’m going to cut this short and try to let my hand relax for the time being.