I am too tired to write a real entry, as I was mercilessly dragged from my warm, comfortable bed at 9 am today after having finally dozed off around 7:30 this morning, and my mind isn't exactly at its peak right now.

I am going on chat, as I find that Diaryland chat requires far less of my brain than writing an entry does.

Tomorrow there will be a real entry, and the following topics will be discussed:

- My passing out of resumes
- The hot guy I shared an elevator with this evening
- The fact that many people who have only recently begun reading my diary are still unsure of my gender and/or sexual orientation
- Crazy ladies who talk excessively to me in line at the supermarket about the cost of Swiffer Sweeper sheets while I smile and nod and try to be polite even though I'd like to hide
- Trying to choose between hair shades named "Stawberry Fields" and "Poppy" in the hair dye section of Trade Secrets
- Why I need female friends

Until then, have a good night.

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� Ripe Tomato 2001-2005
Don't steal my shit. I'll send thugs. Oh shut up. I do so have thugs. Quit laughing! Look, just don't steal my stuff, OK?