So, my dad woke me up this morning, asking if I'd frost the cake that he baked for the church coffee hour. He was like, 'You do it all perfect and pretty.' mmm hmmmm. If you say so dad. Well, that triggered me somehow. Perfection. I got up outta bed, and started frosting the cake. Welll, it got me thinking. What happens to a cake that's all perfect? It gets cut. So, it's only natural for a 'perfect' person to either get cut, or cut herself. *tummy hurts* Oy, I feel miserable.
But on a happier note, I think its been 3 nights. 3 long, horrible nights since I last... yea. It wasn't this hard last time so, maybe this time it'll be for good. God I hope so, I can't take much more of this.
I think that's all I'm gonna write here, the rest of what's on my mind shall go in my journal. Laaaata!