Got to school earlier to add finishing touches to our model with the Victoria, who was in the project group. Since she smokes Camel and collects the boxes, she had told us she would bring little camels cut out of the boxes. Well, she forgot to bring them, which made Hailey pissed off later on. The teacher chose me to present for my group. I did well. After all groups presented, we voted for the best model. And my group won. This made Sarah, a girl that I hate, cry because her group had put a lot of effort in their model. In P.E., Hailey told me that she had, sort of, fooled around with this guy when she had been drunk on the weekend.

When I got home, I ate pretzels and watched The Amazing Atheist. His channel is really good. Then Mum called and we sort of said that I would look after my cousin Bobby and stroll with him to his sister’s school to pick her up from her wrestiling practice. And I did. The baby was alright and calm. When I got to the school, I had some difficulties getting in the school with the stroller, which caused some 12-year-olds to stare at me. The gym in which they held the practice, or training, or whatever you want to call it was hot and the floor was layered with colorful mats.

When I got home, I had already given up on having children entirely. I was pissed off. Then I invited my friend to come. I made her some tea and “lava” muffins. There was no lava in them. Just flat disappointment. We didn’t make any intellectual conversation, but it was nice having her over. I brushed my teeth, washed my face and went to bed.

Tomorrow I’m seeing my doctor to get advice on what I should do regarding my ovaries and pimples. I also have goddamn tutoring at 4. I don’t even mind having it explained to me or actually doing problems. It’s me asking my Dad for money that makes me uncomfortable. I know he has the money, but I always feel uncomfortable asking him. Even for lunch money. I feel like I’m using him.

Lately, I’ve been unable to remember things I was just thinking about that morning or conversations I was having. It worries me. It’s a strange type of forgetting.

I might go see Shift (at least that’s what I think it’s called) next weekend with Brandon and the girl who wants to share rooms with me on our field trip.

This is my 51st entry.

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