Cancer boy

I'm a bitch. Plus I am having a horrible day. So i'm going to write a very depressing post that you won't care about, but it will make me feel better (dammit). Most people assume that they are depressed. I'm not sure why, but the general population of American thinks that having a bad day every once in a while MUST be depression. I think it is because of all of the WebMD like sites that make every person alive a hypochondriac. But anyways. I actually do have depression. Severe. It didn't used to be severe, but it developed as I got older and went through more horror. I ran out of my anti-depressants [aka Happy Medicine] on Friday. The pharmacy says that the medicine is on manufacturer backorder. Which basically means that I will be living without it for a while. Which means that I am going to get more and more bitchy and more and more weepy and more and more wordy apparently. This is not a good thing. Because even with my happy medicine, i'm a mild depressive. I get messed up over the littlest things.

Now that I am done with the backstory, today was a bad day. I don't really know why. Maybe it was because I had to stay up until midnight last night writing a paper I forgot about. Or because it takes me a long time to fall asleep, and right after I had, my roommate came back. Take into account that it is now 4 am. I had gotten about an hours worth of sleep at this point. She decided to bang around and turn all of the lights on and even made the microwave beep a few times somehow. Then I had to try to fall back to sleep. And I woke up at about 7. So I got 2 hours of sleep last night. Which is not good. Not for anyone. I don't function well without sleep. I get worse than usual. To keep myself awake in math I wrote my little sister, Moo, a letter.

The day got a little better after. I even got to go to dinner with my two loves, Amanda and Lily. Those girls make me laugh like nobody's business. I'll put up some of what I mean another time. But after, I got on Facebook. And my sister's ex boyfriend had gotten on this FB page they made together for school [it was Stalin's facebook, funny? NO.] and he was calling me fat while pretending to be her. This was the last straw. Cancer boy is going to die. And no, that is not in a jokey way. I went in and started crying to Amanda, after already crying to my mom on the phone of course, and that didn't help. So i'm taking the mature way out and starting a Facebook war. Which is completely fair because i'm and 18 year old professional bitch, and he's a 16 year old with a brain tumor. I don't know why but I keep typing toumor. Tis getting on my nerves.

Well, I have vented and feel better. I think i'll go cry myself to sleep now.

There will be a less depressing post soon. Sorry for subjecting you to that.