So, my four-hour shift at Zellers just crawled by today. For those of you who have never heard of Zellers, it's the Canadian version of Wal-Mart. Yes, that's right. I am Canadian. For those of you who don't know what Canada is, well... That's kinda sad. Go get a globe. We're the big cold thing sitting over the U.S.
Anyways, I digress. Last night, I was having a bit of an emotional fit, crying and so on about how I didn't want to mave away from all my friends next year and have to make new firends at university. My best friend, Skittles, has been in a bad mood or something lately and has been hanging around with Fai a lot more than me. I would usually be totally fine with this, because I'm a pretty confident person and I know my friends love me, but fear of change mixed with not enough sleep made for a sobbing, weepy mess of Crazy, who then proceeded to write Skittles a sappy, heartfelt email about how scared she was about losing her best friend. I heard a rule once, that nothing good ever happens after 2 am, and you should just shut up and got to bed. In this case, that rule has a definate application. I really, really, really wish that there was an "unsend" button for emails. So, I spent most of my hellish shift today feeling absolutely sick to my stomach with worry, wondering what Skittles will think of this email when she gets it. When I finally got out of there, I hurried home to check my email. No reply. Skittles is constantly on the Internet. So, she either got it and thinks I'm a totally freakish loser right now, got it and doesn't know what to say in reply, or is out somewhere having fun (probably with Fai) while I sit here in my nauseous, loserly state, wondering if we'll ever be friends again.
New word of the day is quagmire.
Quagmire: a type of wetland. Rhetorically, "quagmire" may refer to a predicament or situation from which it is difficult to extricate oneself.