Phew

I need to unload.


I, I, I have friggin hyperactive butterflies in my stomach. I have 5758765865844 shivers being sent down my spine every second. My palms are sweating. I feel as if there's a knot in my throat. I'm cold.



Seriously, I am not a 15 year old.


Then, why am I so incredibly and unbelievably nervous?


I mean it, if he takes more than 5 minutes to answer that bloody msn I will die.















I HATE not knowing where I'm standing.
I'm probably overreacting, I know...but...but ICAN'THELPITGODDAMN.



LISA, WHERE ARE YOU WHEN I NEED TO TALK TO YOU? I KNOW YOU'RE FINALLY ON HOLIDAYS AND ALL, BUT PLEASE, SOME PEOPLE NEED YOU ONLINE.


Oh, he's offline. Nice one. I'll just go hang myself, be back in a minute.



Alright, let's analyse it:

a - he's probably just as nervous and shy as me and is going for the casual approach (A BIT TOO CASUAL, I DARESAY)like me or;

b - he's not even caring. whatever. he scored. I'm just any other girl.

I could come up with a c, but i'll put my hopes on a and wait til, friday I guess. Coz apparently he does not want to see me earlier.



OH WTF. Am I so desperate to the point of mindless and childish speculation?

Well, if that's the case, it means I like him. Shite, that's not supposed to happen. It's the second rule of my "what kiki should no longer do" book.

Actually, there isn't one, but if so, it would be the second rule.

I'd better go to bed and dream of Amy Winehouse being my best friend and having to make her stop sniffing coke just like last night.

I can't. I 'll probably dream of a beautifully formed piece of meat.
Human flesh, actually. Roundly shaped. And firm. OKAYI'LLSTOPNOWORI'LLGOMAD.

Two posts on day one. Not bad.