What do you think I am, fucker? An ATM?

After working a split shift yesterday that completely ruined my Saturday and crawling into bed around 2am, I awoke at around 9:30am with the chime of a new text message ringing next to my ear. I groggily looked at my phone and saw that I had two new messages. The first was from Rocker, telling me good morning, which he does daily. The second was from ex-BFF asking me what I was doing today. I slid my phone closed, went to pee, and fell back asleep until 1pm.

When I woke again, I had another text from ex-BFF, asking pretty much the same question as in his first message. I didn't want to talk to him because I didn't want him to come over. He had texted me earlier in the week, asking why I didn't talk to him anymore, was he that bad or something, he said jokingly. I told him I had just been busy and when he asked what I was doing for the next few days, I came up with excuses that would last me until Saturday. Sunday afternoon, I replied that I wasn't doing much, just had a lot of homework to finish. "Oh yeah? Can you do me a favor," he asked. Hmm. I asked him what kind of favor he needed and he replied that he was $100 short on his credit card bill and asked if I could spare him any money to help him out. In the same text, he ended it saying that he wanted to come out to hang out, if I wanted him to. What the fuck? Are you really asking me for money? Really?! I was pissed off and told him that I couldn't help him out, even though I probably could afford to.

The balls on him...I just can't even fucking form a coherent sentence because I can't believe he had the audacity to ask me for money. After not talking for two years and then hooking up, you think that we have the type of relationship where I would lend you money? Are you fucking kidding me? I told him to ask his fucking mother for money if he needed it and didn't talk to him for the rest of the day and I'm sincerely hoping that I don't have to deal with his broke ass again.

It's not that I wouldn't lend a friend money if they needed it for an emergency, but he's not really a friend and it's not an emergency, it's bad planning and irresponsible spending. Fuck him.

In other news, nothing much has been going on lately. I'm running myself ragged with being an RA, working part-time, and taking 19 credit hours. All while trying to sleep on a consistent basis and have an orgasm or two once a week when I can actually take the time to turn on some porn or fantasize about something.

I've become obsessed with a website called F my life, aka fuck my life. You all should check it out for a quick laugh, especially when you're feeling not so great. www.fmylife.com If I wrote an FML story, it would read: Today I realized that I bit off more than I could chew, so much so that I now have to decide between sleeping, eating, and masturbating. Sleeping wins. FML.

Insert noise of exasperation here.

Rocker and I are fine, if you're wondering. He sent me a cute e-card this morning. It had a picture of an old couple sitting at a piano and it said, "I can't remember our song." In the message, he said, "Wait, yes I can. I'm playing it right now and thinking of you." Awww...what freaking adorable, boyfriendish behavior. Sometime this week, I'm going to have to have the "talk" with him. The splendid, "what are we/where do you see this going" talk that is going to hopefully take place over texting because I'm retarded when it comes to talking about something serious on the phone. In person, I'm alright, but on the phone, I can't do it. I stutter and sound ridiculous and would most likely end up telling him to just forget I mentioned it.

It would be helpful to know where we're at because then I could tell ex-BFF that I have a serious thing going on and he would back off and I'd like to rub it in a few of my friend's faces who have been on my case about not taking relationships seriously and all this other bullshit. Well, sorry I'm not engaged at 21, fuckers. Your relationship probably won't last anyway, but go ahead and bask in your I-met-my-soulmate-in-college idealogy before it turns into I-only-slept-with-one-person-my-whole-life-and-now-I-hook-up-with-strangers-from-Craigslist middle-aged mantra. I know you can sense my hostility here, but I really despise when people get on their high fucking horses about finding love and all this perfect, gooey, bullshit to single people. Please, I can almost gurantee that I'm having more fun than you. I don't get in fights daily about stupid shit, I don't worry about the future of being a Mrs. something and having to deal with already obsessive future mother-in-laws. Don't pity me; I am the one you should be envying as I can hookup with whomever I want, do what I want during my four years of freedom from responsibility, and not have to be suffocated at parties that your awkward boyfriend tags along to because you want him to socialize.

Godddddamnit, now I got angry for no reason. Fuck you, blog, you're supposed to calm me down, not incite me.

Ah well. I guess I'll go masturbate furiously before my sleep deprivation finally takes over and I pass out with a hand in my underwear and books spread across my bed.