good morning sleepy head

my phone was vibrating on my desk this morning. and i wasn't sure if it was either a call or my alarm, i must have hoped it was a call. that's the only explanation for me to get out from under the covers. only my desk was too far away, so i had to just take one step. i scrapped the underside of calf along the edge of my bed trying to get to my phone, only to realise that it was my alarm. set at 7:15 because it got me confused with some other diligent uni student who wakes up at obscene hours during the holidays.

so not only did i have to suffer the searing pain (note the searing, i have mentioned previously that i sometimes enjoy a soft ebbing subtle pain but no, there was nothing subtle about this morning) but also the disappointment. and now i'm left with a scar down my leg, and it's still sobbing now.

disappointment's a funny thing. because you can only get disappointed if you'd hoped. i never took myself to be an optimist, snarky and bitchy as i am, so how come i'm disappointed a lot? i'm too much of a believer, in good things. it's what landed me here, not really doing anything, just drifting. as cynical as i can be i still think that things would just work themselves out eventually.

well no more i say. get ready for a whole new me. in 12 days and 20 hours i will be twenty-one. and legal all around the world. and i'm not about to step into it disappointed. scarred leg and all.

still no party though, because organising is a bitch.



wow...that rant took on a completely different path from what i had planned. but if making my own happiness is the theme then i guess i could get behind it. it's just that...3:50a.m. i'm sitting here blogging to god knows who. four hours ago he said he's going for a coffee and 40 minutes left of a show he was watching and never came back. it's becoming a habit of his, a frustrating habit. throwing in a "I'll call you!" at the end of conversations just because it's required, well in my world that generates expectations. and all the vacuous "xoxo"s. i'm dating a teenage girl (with a large wardrobe comprising of pink and pastels).

so liar, when and if you read this, give me a call.