Lina decided on having lunch with Miss Bombshell. Ooooo...just when I thought I couldn't get any lonlier. I sat in the breakroom and pretended to stare at the wall. I mean, how do you pretend to stare at nothing? Bill walked in and gave his usually pleasant smile and then asked where Lina was. I almost slipped and said she was out with Miss Bombshell--I wished I'd said it. Why couldn't I have said it?

I'm hating my hair, and the thought of going for my next appointment doesn't excite me. If I walk out with one more mushroom hairdo I'll scream. For once I'd like my hair to be as bone-straight as the other girls. Auntie swears that chemicals will damage my nappy hair. How can you damage nappy hair? Switching hairstylists isn't an option; auntie's feelings would be so hurt and mom would never forgive me.

I hate my life.

Mr. Tibbs knocked on my door today and asked if I'd turn down the music, actually, he promised to phone mom immediately if I didn't. Very frustrating! The volume was barely up 5 notches. I wanted to yell, "Shut up old man!" but then felt embarrassed that I'd had such thoughts. I mean, what person has such thoughts?

I really need to work on my eating, but I can't muster the energy to make anything tonight. And who am I fooling, I can't boil HOT water. Guess that means another stop at my favorite spot. At least that'll be a great end to an otherwise horrid day.