I've been trying in vain to write something for the past couple days, but nothing seems to come. This may be mostly due the the fact that my head has been masked in a fog of the ever dreaded 'morning after' hangover (it was my birthday after all...), or maybe because I've really got nothing to say.
I took the day off school today under the premise of catching up on some assignments, but if I'm honest all I've done so far is watch Dr Phil and click around aimlessly on the internet. It's already 1 in the afternoon. Eff.
I had a little 'get up and go' for awhile there, but the only thing I've been motivated enough to do in the last few days is spending all my birthday money on dresses from Topshop, and watching movies I know will make me cry.
The other day I ran into my old babysitter, and it frightened me that I am still recognisable from the age of 8. It got me thinking about how sometimes I can't even recognise the person I've become, let alone the person I once was. I think I've mostly changed for the better, in the last few years anyway. The cold realisation that I'm still here has slowly begun to sink in, and, funnily enough, I'm happier for it.
I'm not really sure where I was trying to go with all this, it's kind of a mess of words and conclusion-less thoughts. Eh.
I think I might attempt some study now, or maybe I'll just watch some John Hughes films....