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Broken legs and broken dreams Well. Y'know that thing, where I said I might have to stay after school today? And help out with the newspaper? Yeah. I did. And I stayed for 2 and HALF FRIGGIN' HOURS. I know that doesn't seem entirely long, but dear GOD. I hate that class enough when I'm in it for an hour and a half a day. Tack on another 2 and half hours, and... I've spent a good 4 hours feeling like I wish I could hit myself with a keyboard hard enough to knock me out. That's not fun. I even considered throwing myself down the stairs, in an attempt to break my leg or something, when I went on a little errand in the middle of class. That's how much I didn't want to do it. That being said, I've JUST gotten home. But I'm full, and I have new glasses, so I'm alright. Minus the sick stomach, and the pounding headache, I'm alright. I've got a lot of work that I've got to get done tonight... lot of reading...filing...giving things names... And headlines. I hate my job. I'm the only person who sticks around after school, so I'm stuck with the most work. Yeah, okay, I get the whole "But you're the Editor" look at things, but... it's not fair! Nobody ELSE feels bad when they don't hold up their end of the deal. Gah. I'm just gonna stop worrying about "other people." I don't feel like jumping off a bridge. Breaking my leg still sounds like a nice alternative, though. I've already broken my, uh, pinky. How much different could a leg be? <-Ghost-> |
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