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12.14.00
You People Are Killing Me, Here.
I will not, will not, will NOT hang out on Diaryland today.

I have too much stuff to do. There's an entire apartment that needs painting. I'm scraping the final cupboard door. I have a breakfast meeting AND a lunch meeting, not to mention a village council meeting tonight. My writing has severly suffered.

I came to work late. I have wet hair and no makeup on. I was so tired, I passed out on the cold, bare hardwood floor of the new apartment last night while Neal painted.

I still haven't bought a single Christmas present. (God, this is BAD.) I don't know what I'm wearing for New Years. On top of all the meetings, I also have to get new license plates today. (FINALLY! For real, this time.) I have to go to the bank.

People! Stop writing such good, interesting journals! You're ruining my life! Quit making me laugh!

Quit breaking my heart!

Quit sucking me into your lives!

Stop posting such hilarious things! I try to stay away from my message board, but I can't. (OK, don't really stop. I would cry.)

I mean it! I have things to do here! I vow not to look at anyone's diaries today. I'm serious here. One day won't kill me.

So there.

OK. I can't lie. I already read CuppaJoe's, and checked Human Capital, but there's nothing new there yet. Oh, and I read Squibnocket. I'll probably also hop over to Maggie's journal, because she IS my friend and all. Shit. I'm pathetic.

P.S. You've heard of FAQs, right? Tomorrow, check here for JAQs, a collaborative entry with another Diaryland journaller you know and love. You'll see.

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