dramamine

back. cold, but not actually cold. 

my prof pretended to not be himself, and i so mentioned he was
gay and then messed up his name. he still let me into
his class. i love him. also, i love the rastafarian. also, i love my french teacher who’s my age and doesn’t speak english. also, i love my
classics teacher who’s also my age, and who also doesn’t speak english. i don’t love my job.

i sleep great now. drama. greeeeaat. and there’s no one here to ration them or hide the little bottle.


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