There’s something about sunday night that really makes you want to kill yourself. Especially if you’ve just been totally made a fool of by the only person you’ll ever love. And you have a geometry midterm on monday, which you still haven’t studied for cause you can’t because Brian Krakow has your textbook and you’re too embarrassed to even deal with it. And your little sister’s completely finished with her homework which is just, like, so simple and mindless a child could do it. And that creepy 60 Minutes watch that sounds like your whole life ticking away.

I’m just really, like, low. I’ll just find any excuse to touch him.