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bite back // scratch away

Bad day. Bad, bad day.
2004-07-29 at 3:23 p.m.

I should update. Yeah. But I really, really don't want to. Well, I mean, I want to? But again, the brain is not cooperating with the will to write.

Then again, maybe it's just here. Maybe I'll go write some on that story I'm drawing up for some contest or another. Or maybe it's just for me. I haven't decided yet. But either way, it's much more exciting than writing about my life.

There is absolutely nothing I can write about that is happening to me. At least, not without screaming in frustration.

Eh. Maybe I'll share a bit of that anyway.

See, I woke up this morning, and spent about 2 and a half hours trying to get this computer to work. Stephanie swears she didn't do anything. Right. I'm so sure.

Especially seeing as those links that pop up on the desktop every time the computer messes up after she's been on it (Second Thought, myPCsearch, and FREE! Travel Voucher), were there this morning.

So, I've spent somewhere in the vicinity of 2 and a half hours trying to salvage the thing. It wouldn't even restart for a while there. But patience and much deleting won out.

And she kept asking me questions while I was doing it, not telling me what happened, just saying "I didn't do anything!"

So, yeah. That's fun. And then Mr. Crap-happy Dog left not only one pile of poo under the piano, but ANOTHER about five feet away underneath the table. Maybe he's sick, I dunno.

And Stephanie keeps getting angry with her friends, and hanging up on them, causing them to call. Again. And again. And she's all "I'm not gonna answer it" and I'm thinking, uh, yeah. She darn better answer it or she's getting bopped upside the head with a phone.

And it'll wake dad up, and he hates that.

I'm really not in a good mood. Really.

Sigh. I'm going to try and burn myself a CD. Not burn myself, dorks.

<-Ghost->


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bite back // scratch away

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