New semesters and brain fucking.

My new schedule is fucking with my head.
I hate it. School takes so much longer.
I want my old English back, and my old Algebra II, and my old History, and my old Biology.
...Okay, maybe I'm sort of excited/terrified/FUCKED for my new Biology, but I seriously don't know what the Hell is going to happen this semester.
All I'm hoping for anymore is good grades, and weight loss.

I'm majorly brain-dead tired.
I'm only up for Skins;
I love Chris.

I'm nervous about tomorrow.
I need to stop daily weigh-ins again.
But GODDAMN, I'm fucking freaked.

My arms are cold.
...Today, my ex told me I shouldn't wear sweatshirts everyday.
...I didn't tell him I wear them to cover up my fat self.
We read a thing about anorexia in English today.
Yeah, I think I was the only one doing the fidget-awkward dance/glance.
Whatever.

Laterz.