"If you go, I go too. I don't leave unless with you."
You know what sucks? Hormones. LET ME DIE NOW PLEASE. I may be an intelligent young woman with a bright future, but goshdarnit if I clearly need to be romantically entangled to feel whole.
Actually no. But. You get my drift.
I have remedied this situation by putting bubble wrap on my head. What do you expect from me, friends? What is this so-called quality of which you speak? Why are you all so gorgeous and eloquent?
I have so many questions.
My boy problems of present are non-problems. He's cute? Too bad, Katherine. You are both a) terrified of people as a general idea and b) he has a girlfriend, anyway, so whatever. Of all the problems I have, this is obviously the most important one. What is my life?
As my glorious internet wife aptly (if jokingly) put it earlier this evening: "You're kind of socially inept, but you're really nice about it."
Standardized tests reign supreme this week at ye old tinytowntexas high school, meaning the lofty seniors are kindly requested to arrive at said institution of learning at the decadent hour of 12:30 each day for the rest of the week. Some might celebrate this. Instead I find myself in a slight panic because this is not routine and things could, potentially, implode.
I am nothing if not logical.