I hate my job. I get so frustrated, so angry, and it makes me hate people. It makes me not care. I get home after even just a three hour shift and I want to hit people. And I'm not even doing any good or contributing to the well being of society. No, I am actually doing the opposite, and furthering the obesity issue in America and western nations in general, and helping people waste tremendous amounts of food.

Just had a weird Facebook experience. This girl that I used to know, Sarah Mosteller, said some strange things on chat.

Sarah:
heyyyy! how are you?

nevermind.

i love your guts./

dee you

s

dd

buyyyyyyy

Me:

heeey
Sarah:

see ya

Me:

are you talking to the right mindi?

Sarah:

hyes

I'm from Messiah, also family camp II

how are you?

Me:

yeah i know

haha

and you knew the greenfields

how's life?

Sarah:

good you?

Me:

good

procrastinating

as per usual

what did you mean you love my guts?

Sarah:

the Lord put that. sry

I am such a procvratinatorrrrrr!

creepy kinda

12:40pmSarah is offline.

Very odd. And she didn't explain what she meant beyond "the Lord put that." Kind of crazy if you ask me. It reminds me of something I would do in middle school when I was painfully shy and desperately wanted to be friends with Maggie and Julia and Sarah and Candace and Phoebe - start to say how I feel, but in a letter, and then run away and not be able to finish what I was saying. So the net effect is that I/Sarah end up coming off as crazy. I wonder though if there is some underlying issue that she is dealing with, or if she is just really shy. I never ever talk to this girl, why would she say she loves my guts. She must stalk my facebook? Not that I mind that, it's the internet, but we literally never talk. Why would the "Lord" put that. What does the "Lord" want her to say and me to hear? By guts does she mean courage? bravery?

Marshalls and Michael Kors

I was at Marshalls today. Great place.
I saw the most beautiful purse, it was gorgeous, classy but edgy at the same time. It was leather and snakeskin and black and it had those big gold chain links on it that I love on anything. I WANTED IT SO BADLY.
It was $200.
Which was almost half the original price!
But still $200.
I wish I had never seen it.

Your pillow is still on my bed, waiting for you ... I guess it will be there until January, lonely, cold and unused.

So, okay, you told me about your day on Saturday. On the plane. I can't believe you never had pretzel sticks, lol, that's hilarious. You want to hear about my day?

First of all, it took me twice as long to get home as it did to get to the airport because there was construction traffic on 495 and 66 ... q terrible, lol.

Then, I made plans to go to a fraternity party with the barbie club later that night.

But, I did not go, because I was incredibly stressed out, to the point where I could not stop crying in the shower, and then when I got out of the shower, I cried into the mountain of dirty laundry that is my room. It was awful. I told Valerie that I was sick and couldn't go ... she offered to come over with soup and movies, she's so sweet. I told her I was just incredibly stressed out about my little and all the crafting I had to do.

I was getting so angry about crafting and being in a sorority and blah blah blah ... it was not a good day. I posted something about it as my status - I said, "to the girl who made a chair as a clue for her little, BRING IT." I thought it was kind of funny, but the girl who got the chair got offended and said something - and she read my blog about it and ended up sending me a whole facebook mssg about how offended she was. So then I had to apologize and then I felt really guilty and got even more upset - I get really sensitive about things like that. I hate it when people are mad at me.

Anyway, if you didn't understand any of that it's okay.

Long story short, I stayed home, drank a big glass of your Argentinian wine, and crafted. Then I woke up, crafted some more, and then went to chapter.

WHERE MY LITTLE DIDN'T SHOW UP. AFTER ALL THAT!!!

Her uncle died. So I understand. That's really sad. But seriously? Fue muy anticlimatico!!!!!!!!

I apologized to the girl who made the chair that I was bitching about on facebook.

She had no idea what I was talking about. But I guess I was being proactive, in case she ever DID find out. It was like a pre-apology.

I got dinner with Rachel (who is my big, the one you met, with the super tall boyfriend) afterwards and it was really nice to hang out and talk and catch up for a bit.

That has been my weekend. I'm about to clean my room and do laundry. There's glitter and paper and paint all over my room, it's ridiculous. I haven't done laundry in so long that I'm about to run out of underwear. Which wouldn't be a problem except that I've also run out of pants and only have mini skirts left.

crafting is making me angry

I have been crafting my little heart out for over a week. Literally, my heart is gone, as a result of crafting under pressure. I would like to have a friendly little conversation with whoever it was that came up with this ridiculous idea. "Like omg guys, let's paint glitter on A LOT of shit and throw it in a basket and it will be soooooo cute!" I think they MUST own significant stock in craft stores, just saying.

I would also like to have a chat with all the over achieving crafty sisters. A chair? for clue week? really? I guess I'll have to dust off my jigsaw, start making a dining room table and a kitchen sink. All I can say is I appreciate the sisters who threw some shit in a gift bag and wrote clues on index cards. DAMN.

I just finished fighting with my mom's sewing machine, hemming a big piece of tie dye fleece to make into a blanket. Honestly, I think it's really cute and if someone made it for me, I would love it to pieces. But all I can think about is that for some reason my little won't like it, or that someone else will make a better one, or hand piece an entire quilt or something ... nbd, just a full size heirloom quilt that I made for you ...