Tired. Hungry. Feeling rather pointless in almost all aspects of life, currently. This has, perhaps, been brought on by a bad reaction to watercolors.
I fucking hate painting glass.
Eh. The hell with it.
Also wasted thirty five dollars. Well, probably wasted, anyway. Hope is a cruel, cruel disease, the kind that keeps you playing lottery scratch-offs and applying for scholarships that you know damn well you aren't gonna get.
I could have bought half a bus pass with that money.
I don't know why I've been so miserable lately.