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:: Saturday, February 23, 2002 ::

My closet fell on me.

I'm not happy.

For those of you unfamiliar with my situation, here it is: When I moved off to the happy little hell that is Rutherford to live with Marco, I kinda did it very spur of the moment.

My mother took this opportunity to convert my room into a large walk-in closet.

It isn't even really a closet. It's gone from being my room to being *a* room with lots of unused sheet rock and building materials in it and the door that used to go into it is now a wall. The only way to get into my room now is via my mother's room.

Now all this isn't too bad, even though I'm living in a room roughly a quarter of the size of my old one. I *did* move away and change my address and all. But what *really* ticks me is that there's no room for my clothes. So mom bought me this crappy stand-alone closet bar that looks *really* ghetto. I made do the best I could, but it fell on me today. That was the straw that broke the camels back. I'm really pissed and my hand got bruised when it banged against the side bar, trying to hold it up.

We're waiting for pizza to get here right now. Mom called, like, an hour ago but nothing yet. I'm all gothed out, just because. Have my punk skirt and my black lace cardigan on. Yay.

Mike's gonna go out with me again tomorrow...ooh..I gotta go call him, speaking of. It's getting late.

Updates later!

~Fox "The pizza guy's gonna have a coronary" Mackenzie

(As an aside, Rog knows all about that, right guy? ::laughs::)
:: Fox 2/23/2002 06:47:00 PM [Say what?] ::
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