I'M SH-SH-SHAKIN'...IRONICALLY ENOUGH.

I don't know what Rooney has to do with anything, but then again, I'm not a logical person, so nothing really has to have anything to do with anything else, does it?
I know. I confuse myself sometimes.
Ugh. It's been one of those off days...At least I'm now fully aware of why I enjoy school more than home...There was a series of ten minutes in K-Mart this evening when I felt sure I'd drop dead to the floor, surrounded by discount wrapping paper and hairstyling products galore. It was an eerie ten minutes.
Or, if we're in AP Language, it's "erie." Like the lake.
The youth rally was canceled for Saturday, and I thought for sure I was out of a Genescapade...But no, the Mission From Hell ends early on Sunday, and we can see them with Gayle's horde, and I will once again be lovelost and forlorn.
Hooray!
I suppose I'm most excited over The Phantom Of The Opera come Thursday...It means an afternoon of pure musical theatre greatness, P-Dawg, and Elis. I--
Don't know...
I can't think right now: it's a blobbing gelatin of nothingness that I'm incompetent at harnessing, yet dutifully obliged to torment myself with. Thought, that is. My eyelids shut in a combination of things unknown, exhaustion and scorn surely associated, and I just don't know how to cope with it...I'm not depressed, just inconsiderate...I don't deserve all the things I have in my life, I don't deserve the privileges, and the esteem, and the pride, and the incoherent babbling that flutters across my eyelids at one-hundred-and-eighty-six miles per hour...
I need to stop at this point, I think. Too in-depth for tonight...I need to watch some Strong Bad or something mindless like that...