The day went along not unlike any other, rather monotonous.
The same insults.
The same glares.
The same people.
I was sort of content though.
I knew that my mother was not going to be home until six, so I could have the house minus the homophobic mum for a few hours.
Also my outfit was hella cute.
I had a light blue skirt, white vans(it was the first time I had worn them in several months in the fear of someone making a 'damn Daniel' reference), a black shirt with little potted cacti, and I had actually had time to tame my curls into a slightly less messy mop.
(Plus I listened to Melanie Martinez that mourning and it got me quite pumped up.)
