Dear Diary,
Sometimes, I feel like all that I think about is me, me, me. I look in the mirror and it's just like, you again? I don't think I want to be anyone else, but sometimes I just get a bit sick of myself. I think it was all this birthday hubub that did it to me. All I could think about was my birthday for so long. And a 21st birthday tends to get quite a bit of attention.
Yesterday, my friend Kevin and I (we were even born on the same day) went to the sleaziest (and cheapest) bar I've been to yet. Everyone was 50. I was wearing sweatpants and Kevin speculated that there may be some meth going on in the bathroom. So we kept to ourselves.
School is hard. I'm trying to think of what I would be doing instead though, and it's not looking too good. I'm not saying I don't like it, because I do. But. I would be a lot less stressed out if I wasn't trying to learn anything.
Love,
Diana