I'll be home in a week. I wish I had poems or something to post, because I feel like I am posting the same thing over and over again, but I have nothing to write a poem about. My day was average, my mood indifferent, the sky gray. I am just trying to get through the next six days, but really nothing is so bad except that life lacks excitement and when it has excitement I wonder whether it's the wrong kind of excitement. There are some moments that are just right and I need a right moment. I have a hankering to watch John Hughes films for hours. I have a sneaking suspicion that I am stuck in adolescence. Let's play spin the bottle and listen to bad pop music and talk about the boys that we think are cute.