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Yesterday, in the middle of an existentialist crisis, I stopped mid-sentence and walked out of my English class. I'm very proud of myself in a nervous kind of way.

Part of me is desperately hoping that I don't get the summer internship which I applied for. That way I can just stay home with the new kitten (as of yet theoretical, but the first thing I'm doing when I get home is setting the feral cat trap).

My mother is incapable (in a good, I totally understand kinda way) of getting the pasture bush hogged before I get home. Which means that I'm having nightmares about me and the god damned scythe which nearly took off my leg last year. At least we have a tiller, which means no more pick axe.

In other news... The roommate wars have progressed. She's no longer speaking to me and I'm pretending not to notice. I must be infuriating.

I'm much happier than I was yesterday. Nothing like conflict to bring up your mood.

Love you all. Seriously, the entire human race. I adore you in this split second.
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8hyenas

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