Dear Diary,
Earlier today I checked my e-mail and was a bit confused to find a message from one Diana Freeburg in my inbox. I didn't remember emailing myself, you know? But it was another Diana Freeburg. Another Diana M. Freeburg, actually. America, this is why I have my website. For this exact reason. So other Diana Freeburgs can contact me, eventually we'll probably have some sort of association and I will be the president.
I figured out what's so lame about living at home. And it's not the food. I actually have to call people if I want to see someone my age. I keep thinking that I'm lame and have no friends, but this is not true. I could be busy as a beaver if I would just pick up my cell phone. I get spoiled in college. I just have to roll out of bed and stumble to breakfast to see 400 other kids between 18 and 22. Although, who are we kidding, the only 22 year olds at the cafeteria breakfast were the RA's. psh.
I worked at the old job today. It was bad because this girl who I worked with there about 3 years ago came in and was like, "you STILL work here?!" I tried to explain myself, but I don't know if she believed that my life was going places. Not to say that if you work there your life isn't going places, that's not true. But I got this job when I was 15. and if I was still working it full time when I was nearly 21, my life would not have gone places.
Love,
Diana