When the going gets tough, the tough get going. Or some shizz like that. I'm banking on year 32 of my life being the best one ever. For some reason I just feel like that's the magic number.
Actually, let me take the first thing back. Nothing is really "tough" per se in my life. Some way, somehow it just feels like I'm constantly changing my mind. Indeciciveness drives me slightly insane, too. I hate when people can't make up their minds.
Apparently I'm that person though. Whoops.
It's like trying to do a crossword puzzle with a pen. Most times, if I can help it, I use this awesome blue gel pen I found somewhere...I can't exactly recall. It might have been stolen.
Anyway.
The ink is really...good and I like the way I write with it.
Seriously, back to my point, I really enjoy my daily crossword with the aforementioned pen but in reality it's just not rational. Sometimes (a lot of times) I put retarded answers in the puzzle that are surely no where near being accurate.
Oh, a five letter word for king of the sea, starting with sh? Hmm...shrew. It fits!
If I would just wise up and use a pencil, my life would be a lot easier and the crossword puzzle itself would be a lot prettier. Those blue globs of scratched out and transformed letters make for a nasty looking puzzle.
Right now I feel like my choices are just like those retarded answers in the crossword.
My life needs to be in pencil until I'm 32.
A mechanical pencil though, let's not get cheap here.
