OMG!

I want Morgan and Ian out of this room so I can clean it immediatley. Ugh. Where are my scissors? Morgan took them in the bathroom without explanation and of course did not return them to their rightful place in the cup on my desk. I hate everything. I want to go home so badly. I want to die. I want to find a video camera on ebay. Ugh. Stop laughing. Stop talking. My side of the room was completely clean less than a week ago. I have no space! I have nothing. I have no respect. I have nothing. I want to take a shower but it's so damn hot. I want to clean. I wish I had (I need) weed. I don't want to go to work but at the same time I can't wait to go to work. I wish they would leave. I hate living in this room. Four more weeks. Four more weeks. Four more weeks. How will I pack with all this shit everywhere? I want to kill myself. I hate my life. Everything is annoying me severely. I'm not going to do anymore homework.


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