It’s past three in the morning. I’m home. I’m tired. I’m cranky. I’m bitter. I have to get up very early to go to work and I have no one else to complain to right now. So, to you, and by you, I mean no one, I’m angry that I have to go to work twice tomorrow. I’m angry that I let that and countless other things that don’t actually matter ruin today and tomorrow. I love Easter, and I’ve ruined a great part of it tonight. I’m angry that I let myself ruin yet again, a wonderful night by choosing to bitter. I think it’s a defense mechanism. I wake up telling myself that I’m going to have a bad day, and if by some chance I have a good day, it’s a wonderful surprise. And when my day is bad, it doesn’t seem so bad because at least I can count on that. That’s completely ridiculous. It doesn’t actually make the bad day seem any less bad. I’m sorry for writing bullshit on my blog, which I sadly haven’t written a post for in days. I’m bitter about that as well. I think I’m still censoring myself, but because no one has looked as this besides Julia in some time, I might as well go back to writing my typically useless posts about my useless happenings, my useless pining over someone who doesn’t even find me remotely interesting (remind me to write a post about being interesting), and some useless song lyrics to conclude my useless attempt at writing something worthwhile.