I cried, I bitched, I gnashed my teeth, I watched both hands break out in a "I couldn't be more stressed" rash. But I got the fucking senior writing project paper done. It's shit, but it's done. Shitty, shitty shit, but it's done. I might not graduate, and I actually mean it for realz this time, but I don't care. I don't fucking want to be a lawyer anymore anyway. This sucks. Everything sucks. Going to get some sleep before I go home for the funeral. Funerals also suck.
Oh, and it's my birthday. You should say Happy Birthday.
Oh, and it's my birthday. You should say Happy Birthday.