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Food For Thought!
 
Tuesday, March 11, 2003  
I've decided I cannot take any more Percogesic. Not until Friday, anyway. Man, everytime I take those little orangey babies, I wake up 10 hours later, groggy and confused. I vaguely remember Linda telling me to get up from the living room floor and work on my paper. Thanks, Boo, but you are one person fighting the Percogesic war. You had no chance... Neither did I. It's now 7:00 am and I got five to eight pages on Greek mythology to churn. I know i can do it, but it doesn't mean it'll be pleasant. The next time you see me, please tell me something good. I'm feeling lost. Thanks.
PS Why are my parents buying me bribey gifts? I've got a bad feeling that they done something that makes them guilty. My dad got me a new cage ($40) for Gavroche. Who by the way, has a pink hairless butt, again. I'm a terrible mother. My mom got me a skateboard. (used, but still a deathtrap in their eyes, right?) Gordy must be in jeopardy.

7:10 AM

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