Dear Diary,
I have just returned from the longest train ride of my life. We were delayed for two hours in Tacoma because there was a body on the tracks. When we found out that someone had died I think some of the passengers felt like assholes for making a fuss about the delay. Me, I just continued to watch the terrifically (in a bad way) creepy movie, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and then read my novel that sounds trashier than it is. It's called "Good in Bed." I like it because the heroine is annoying and screws up all the time but she's still funny. Any other author and you'd want to stop after 150+ pages of the heroine sulking about an ex-boyfriend who's moved on, and being overweight, but for some reason i just want more.
Now it's getting late. I've got two frosted strawberry poptarts staring me in the face, and a dull homework assignment that shouldn't be this painful. If I eat the poptarts now I won't have any poptarts tomorrow. If i only eat one poptart I'll just spend the rest of the night thinking about the other poptart. I'm mostly just sad that the box will be empty soon. too soon.
Love,
Diana