On days like this, when I’m in a crappy mood, I tell myself: I want stupid days. I want the morning afters, where I wake up on the next and wonder what the hell happened last night. I want waking up in the morning and thinking, God, last night was fun, but for that I may have moved one step closer to hell. I want waking up next to someone that I don’t know I will never lose. I want days where I start typing at 1:43am at night, when I well know that the time would be spent much better sleeping. I want bed hair, a wavy mess, over straight clean locks. I want to be so tired from assignments and schedules that I wonder why I put in all the effort. An aching shin, stomach cramps, a blur of things on my mind… Yeah, it’s a stupid day.