Lately I've come to the conclusion that... It's extremely difficult for me to admit when I'm pissed at a friend. I'm too afraid of losing them to explode, so I just take it. I tend to just pretend like I'm not mad at all, but then blurt out snarky little comments instead of just flat out owning up to my emotions. And I know my friends well, because I genuinely care about each of them, but because of that I know exactly what snarky little comment to say at the given moment that will piss them off the most. But I don't realise that I'm doing it until I've already said it.
I opened my first ever bank account today, completely independent from my mother's reach. I convinced the lady at Suntrust to bend company policy and allow me to open an account without a co-applicant (the standard procedure for those under 18). I can now buy whatever the fuck I want online and not have to tell anyone jackrabbity about it.
Also, yay! By the end of next week I will have my debit card and my $50 dollar visa gift card to play with. I was going to buy shoes, but I decided to be obnoxiously responsible and put it towards an MUA or something for a shoot.
My wrist is still fucked up, which is outrageously annoying considering that I have to deal with that in addition to the period cramps from lucifer himself.
What the fuck is the deal with naproxen not working? There's no freaking way I've built an immunity. Acetamenophin and ibuprofen do not work, I will DIE if naproxen starts failing me.
No, seriously, I would quite possibly puke up my intestines from the pain if I didn't have working medication.
Yes, this has been a rather dramatic post from yours truly, [even by my standards] but let's blame the PMS, shall we, and call it a night.
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