For the love of science.

I'm just going to go ahead and say it. $729.29 is way too friggin' much for some textbooks.  I feel like I am going to be spending the rest of my life just paying off the interest for the damn books that I can't sell back in the first place.  It's a downward spiral. Pay for schooling to get a good job, spend that entire lifespan of what you thought was a good job paying for your school. I'm hoping the break that I've been working this whole time for, is actually coming my way.
I've been working on budgeting lately. It's been rough, especially with paying some of the bills in advance. Which is just too hard to do when you live with two other people. Wires get crossed and someone always ends up getting shorted money.  Now I'm back to just tracking myself and dealing with it as it comes up.
I've been so frustrated all day that it's killing me to sit down at write something. I swear sometimes I want to just have a screaming match with something somewhere, ANYWHERE just to feel better. That's how I know that I'm not adopted from my family. The woes of an irish family, even if I am the only one that understands to use class and charm before fists and vulgar wording but barely. I feel myself fighting that other side of myself because all I ever feel like is that I'm being worked to the bone for nothing.  That's where the mister comes in. He reminds me to take that blasted run I promised I would after work. We took the dogs and only ran about a mile or so. But it was really nice to be able to just trot behind him. Normally I feel like such a jackass running after him. Because it's usually just him leaving me in the dust and me miserably dragging my feet for about a half mile before I start walking in a sulky mood. Even the princess pup was all about running.  She would get so pissed off that the bigger dog was already around the corner and force me to atleast speed race her around the corner. Maybe this is good. It's definitely an improvement even though I still worry constantly about my knee. The first 30 feet on the concrete was blinding pain. I mean, shards of glass being shoved into the tiniest spot in my knees. It'd be nice if injuries wouldn't haunt me, but thats what i get for forcing myself to walk too fast after surgery just so I could do a cheerleading competition. Where's that drive? I could use that again, considering cheering ended up disgusting me completely once I reached highschool. What a disaster that ended up being. Here's to hoping rowing doesn't turn into as big as a rumor mill but you can't have a team of girls without some catfights.  Ill sit back and watch from here on out. My favorite so far? That clearly i must think im better because i went to the gym once with only one of the girls so we could compare times. She blew me out of the water no matter what anyway, but we are now "snobby". Don't worry girls, I'll always be snobby, it's part of being a princess.
~Mis. Fit.