Tall people suck.
2002-11-13, 12:26 a.m.

I can't get any work done! I haven't been able to concentrate on my work for days now. I try to, but it's impossible. They sound of the keys, when tapped, distract me. The ticking of the damn clock distracts me. I CAN'T GET ANYTHING DONE!

It doesn't matter. I'm screwed anyway. Tammy, one of my group members in history, is having surgery and won't be able to have her part done. So, our entire group is screwed. She had the first page of the newspaper to complete. Now we can't get it done. Damnit! Screwed.

I don't know what's causing my lack of concentration. Usually, I'm on top of things. I can get lost in my head while working, seeing only my work. Could it be I have no passion for my work? Probably. I mean, I'm writing this thing pretty well, right? I've just typed up three darn paragraphs in three minutes. I've only written three sentences in my article. I need passion.

Tomorrow I shall call Lathan to see if he wants to go to the movies with me. I need to get out of the house and do something. It's not a date, ok? I'm clearing that up right now. My other friends are comin' too, hopefully. Y'know, Melanie, Alain, and Jimmie. I'd rather see Lathan, though. He's cool.

Melanie's too, uh, violent. That girl loves to inflict pain on others, but gets pissed if she receives it. Jimmie ... well ... Jimmie's Jimmie. No need to go there. And Alain. Alain, Alain, Alain. Poor, weird, not-funny-though-he-tries-to-be Alain. That kid, if he ever does say something humorous, milks the joke until it's dry. It gets annoying hearing the same joke 20 times in an hour. It doesn't matter. He's ok, I guess. Lathan is one of the goofiest, dumbest guys I know. Aye, that boy is slow.But hey, he's my buddy. And he's tall. *shiver* Tall guys are bad. He's like 5' 11". And he's 14. Sucky.

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