I hate my room i hate my room i hate my room i hate my room i hate my room i hate my room i hate my room i hate my room i hate it hate it hate it hate it HATE IT.
It has very little to do with the fact that it is perpetually teetering on the edge of being a domestic disaster, and more to do with the fact that it all came together by accident. I like pink fair enough. I like green, even the occasional loud and bossy chartreuse. I hate these colors together. How did they manifest in my personal space??!! Wendy spent the night last night so I could take her to the airport early in the morning. I could barely manage to get myself to shut up and lie down because I was so disgusted by my room. I feel entirely misrepresented. I have decided to ignore the fact that I desperately need new clothes (A sweater? why on earth would I ever own a sweater? More than one pair of pants?) and am finally going to fix my stupid ugly room.
It feels superfluous, but as Wendy stated, "It's where you sleep. That can't be good." Yeah, I may still walk around looking poor and busted, but what is the point of nabbing all those hotties when I have no appropriate place in which to seduce them? Have you seen my car? Lets be serious. I am out of options.
This is possibly the dumbest post ever. Whatevs. 2008 is over, bizatches.