No, I'm not well. I'm sick. I hack up solid mucus for the most part. This is after sleeping mind you, which I will be doing in about 10 minutes after this is posted and I cackle at people.

I still have no job. I'm looking but it's hard when your ankles swell in the f**king heat. So I'm broke.

I'm selling stories. One shots. Want the details, PM or -E-mail me. I'll tell you what's the what.

I hate Yuma. I want to kill my aunt. I want to go on a homicide spree because of all the stupid people around here.

I'm happy with our President though. I like Obama. I like the fact he's doing something more then what Bush tried to do. Which wasn't much.

I had to reformat my hard drive. Lost all of my links, cookies and other things. Lost my music. Pissed me off to high hell. I had rare Evanescence!!

I'm writing, no worries. I have many stories written. That won't be posted here. Why?

Cause they're fanfiction.

Or part of a club and you'd be confused.

Morena is sick. And could possibly die. That would suck since I don't want her to die. She has a very nasty heart problem.

I loath Valentines Day. If you tell me Happy Valentines Day, I will have your head on a platter.

Why?

My ex dared to e-mail me. And this guy who I flirted with, knowing full well it would never come to anything, dared to IM me and say sorry.

I repeat, I loath Valentines Day.

I'm going to listen to Slipknot and Disturbed now...maybe get some sleep.

Good bye.