I feel like she just needs to take a deep breath and relax. Or orgasm until she can't breathe. She needs to start doing things without planning ahead. She needs to wear clothes off her floor. She needs to stay out past midnight. She needs to get less than eight hours of sleep. She needs to eat more junk food. She needs to work. She needs to use a little more profanity. She needs to think about sex. She needs to stop listening to Rod Stewart. In short, she needs to move beyond her former world in which she was the class president, model citizen and mistress of all things ideal.

She's so wholesome that I'm starting to get a bit of an upset stomach.

She keeps telling me that she's working on plans for Tuesday night and she'll let me know, she'll let me know, she'll let me know. And it's driving me fucking insane. I can't handle this sort of shit.

Girls. grrrrrr.

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