Sundays are days for hangovers, one night stand regrets, and death threats. I hate Sundays. This weekend was lame and boring. I did nothing. I could have. But I made excuses and sat at home. Everyone called telling me to forget my paper and come see them. Come hang out. Come drink. Come smoke. I wanted too, but motivation was lacking. People call me when I'm busy. People call me when they're bored. On it goes. I e mailed P the other day. No response. I hate myself for liking him. I hate myself for knowing I will miss him after this semester's over. I hope I get over him quickly. I don't want to keep feeling this way. Stupid. Useless. Fully rejected. I have 2 more days of classes left. Mostly just tests actually. Tests and tests. I hate exams. I hate classes. I hate being broke. I hate being lazy. Oh well. I'm on my 6th day of fasting. I feel relatively well. Not sick. Not hungry. Cleaner really. Fresher. I hope starving isn't something I get used to. I become addicted to behavior no matter how retarded. Maybe this summer will be great. Maybe it won't be. Maybe I don't exactly care right now. I just want some sleep and a smoke. A toke even. Hopefully this is the end to my boring weekends. Than again I keep having my weekend in the middle of the week. Too late to stop going out now. I don't have anything else important to say. Done for now.