Then when I did drag myself from my catatonic fugue, I took a "What type of Goth are You?" test and got "Hot Topic Baby Goth." What kind of shit is that?
I still haven't picked up the lightbulb. I haven't taken out the trash.
I got hair dye all over my white kitchen whilst doing the mountainous pile of dishes and what else, dying my white-ass hair.
My boyfriend responds with "Ok" whenever I tell him anything. I fucking hate that. What is that? Next time you tell me something, anything, I'm going to say "Ok." Oh, your puppy died? Ok.
On the plus side, I went into the orthodontist and had them cut the wire that was digging into my cheek like something from a Saw movie and I can stop drinking Orajel now.
Edit: I stayed up til midnight looking at toasters, stopped briefly to pick up the lightbulb and put it in the trash which I hauled to the curb, woke up an hour late to find my trash can on its side and the lightbulb all over the street.