late night pondering my brain

this is so embarrassing...

I got a job at Cold Stone Creamery.

That’s not the embarrassing part. I’m pretty happy with it.

The uniform is black or khaki pants.

Not embarrassing.

I need to wear (and purchase myself) a black polo.

Still not embarrassing.

The only place I know still sells Polos for females..is…wait for it…

Aero.

I have to go to Aeropostale to buy the polo.

That’s the embarrassing part.

Why?

It’s so preppy. 

Also..

I haven’t set foot in that store in years, and I’ve been so proud of that.

oof.

I don’t understand. People cut flowers to give to others as a gesture of love, but then the flowers slowly wilt and die then people throw them away. Why? If someone have me a pot with a flower, I’d be so happy because then I have something to care for. Like I was given a life to care for. I just love flowers and the fact that they have to die for people to show that they care is not right.
Don’t get me wrong, if someone gave me a flower, I’d love it, but still. Don’t kill life to show love.

I think I am legitimately going insane.

I was really stressed out trying to write my paper.

*I usually listen to music when I’m doing homework, but when I’m really stressed, I need absolute quiet.*

But the music was too loud.

I got angry and was yelling (in my head) at the computer.

Me: SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP. WHY ARE YOU SO DISTRACTING. HOW DID YOU SUDDENLY GET LOUD ON YOUR OWN. DIE.

Then without clicking anything, without touching anything, the music stopped.

….

It was a miracle.

But I was confused…

Guys, Youtube wasn’t opened.

iTunes was not opened.

…..

….

..

.

There was no music playing.

….I was THINKING a song in my head.

My head was being too loud.

I was literally thinking too loud.

GUYS.

*eye twitch*

We all feel this way

I hate being the last one in my house downstairs because when I go to walk (well, run for dear life) up the stairs, I think there’s a killer behind me.

I feel like I can’t run any faster up those stairs.

I feel like I would trip like those dumb chicks in the horror films and not be able to get up and then the Hash Slinging Slasher would cook me into a Krabby Patty on my own stove.

It also scares me to be in a large dark place alone. More places for the killer to hide.