Grow up. No.

I'm home alone so much that sometimes I forget I'm not an adult. I feel so grown up sometimes that I feel like I don't need to go to school because I already know everything there is to know. Statements like that really help my case. Not.
But when all I feel like doing is cooking and cleaning and leisure reading and even working, just not studying...I feel like this is it. I'm in my thirties. My life is over. In the good way--my life is stable. For the one hour and a half it takes me to prepare the crepes and the meat for Crepes de Estilo Jalisco, I feel mature. Yet for the past two months since the first day of February I have been Highschool Girl. I don't know what I want. I only know what I don't want. I want everything. I want everyone. I love attention. Boys. Boys. Boys. Boys. Boys. Calculus? No, just boys.

Eastery Sunday.
Oh, God. Oh, Jesus. I wanted to go to church today. But sleeping took precedence...over God.
Good, God. I'm taking this nominal Christian thing to a whole notha level. Isn't it unfortunate that there is a huge line between believing in God and being a Christian? Dios mio. Oh God. Oh my God. God damn.

Stupid videos.
I have seven interviews. And the rest of my spring break diary. Work. Work now!
Penis fucker. They won't work.