The feeling you get when something good was supposed to happen but didn’t is the most depressing one in the world. Even if, five minutes ago, you didn’t even know it was supposed to happen, and you were perfectly happy before.

I have nothing to write about. Most people, upon hitting this realization, decide to say nothing. A genius, however, knows… well, a genius knows a lot of stuff. Frankly, this genius doesn’t know why she’s not acting like one, and talking when she has nothing to talk about. She is, however, quite determined to push on, in hopes that she will discover what she ought to be talking of. She will then proceed to say nothing about it.

Yesterday, with my friends, I was thinking about taking things for granted and I decided not to. I was thinking. okay, it’s sunny outside, and absolutely gorgeous, and it smells nice, my best friend is sitting right next to me, we’re playing awesome music which I don’t know the name of, summer’s almost here and I’m happy. And I wasn’t any happier than I usually am. NOT to say that I wasn’t happy, because I was, almost blissfully happy, in that weird way where nothing is going wrong. But anyway, I don’t think I take things for granted very much, so I’m not going to worry about it, because that’s kind of wasting time anyway.

I’m always worried I’m taking stuff for granted. I try to do everything most of the time, but every once in a while, I don’t. Not because I’m scared, but because I’m tired, or grumpy, or too busy. It bugs me. Whenever I do everything and am happy all the time, my mom thinks I’m being overly optimistic. (That’s funny because I can be one of the most pessimistic people I know.) When I’m a grouch, people think I’m… well… a grouch. So I’m stuck either way. Not to mention the fact that I can’t always make up my mind which to be, either. I wish I would shut up. I’m not even making sense any more. Even I know when I’ve lost my train of thought.