  A date book, a planner, a personal calendar, whatever the hell you want to call it; i have one! Why i'm so excited about this i do not know, but i am. I kinda feel like have this odd sense of purpose (which is crazy because pieces of paper strung together with dates written on them by me does not necessarily imbue purpose, but whatever), even though all i really have is the aforementioned things and the same old pseudo-aimless ways as before. I have a job, one that i do not get to work often enough, but i job i like all the same. I have friends, but a pitiful few. I desperately wish i had more, but i really seem to have the ability to pick them. My friends up at home are an illusion, and my friends here i can count on less than one hand.
It really hit me last night when i was scrolling through my phone book looking something to do. I realized that i really had no one to call. No one i wanted to call that is. Lots of names and numbers, but not one (i'm ignoring the entries of my 2 friends who were working) i would want spend time with.
I'd rather sit at home alone than be driven mad by sharing the same space. There's much more to this, but i'm growing depressed, and i'd rather focus on my new found (or maybe refreshed would be a better word? ) purpose. (That and the rapidly climaxing Cruel Intentions which i have on). That and the fact that (hopefully) tomorrow is going to a be another beautiful day at the beach. At least i have that. Yay me. 
