I’m tired. I’m talking major

I’m tired. I’m talking major tiredness. I am having troubles getting good sentances out. That’s why I am keeping them simple. Like this. I know the broken images are annoying, but give Blogger.com time to update and fix out it’s little problems. We all have problems, just be tolerant. You never know when Blogger.com will be relying on you, and you are in a spot of bother. Just be nice. Be friends. There. Aren’t we all just happy now.
Sleep. Ugh, but that means I have to get up out of the chair. But it’s so comfy here. Mmm, but look at that bed. I love it’s floorboard texture. I am so glad I bought the industrially firm bed. I’m not being sarcastic - I like hard beds. I had the option of picking one that was just as hard, but with a bit of padding on top. But I didn’t.
Oh, there is a box from packing on the end of my bed. I wonder if I can sleep, and just put my legs to the side of it? It looks so heavy. If I hadn’t packed breakable things, I might have given the not-moving-it thing a go. But I suppose it is a good thing, or I would have been re packing it tommorow morning.
My brother has my new purple pen. I ate my other one. Well, not all of it. Just the end bit that holds the ink bit in. So now it doesn’t work. In my in class essay today, my black pen ran out on the last sentance. No joke. I couldn’t believe it. Why is it cheap pens last so much longer than expensive pens? This one lasted ages. I think I even just found it on the ground, or “borrowed” it off someone. I do buy pens, but people steal mine, so eh. Have you noticed how no one is fussy about pen ownership. Unless it is a special one. Like my new purple pen. It has turned a few heads. A few pages too. It is good. I found it in a basket upstairs. It actually has a better purple ink than the one I ate. Well, not ate. I think I already told this story.
I don’t like fountain pens. Too messy. I like biros. Black, not blue. Purple for bullets, blue for outlines and green for important points. And red occassionally. I think blue is over used, and I don’t like it.
I have *really* messy hand writing. During the inclass essay today, somewhere on my third page I began to get a very sore hand, so what started off as a concious effort to have neat handwriting for my poor teacher, turned into a festival of leaving out every second letter, and replacing what was left with un upside-down squiggle.
Ah, Mr Squiggle. Was there anything he couldn’t do? I am guessing that was an australian show. He was a puppet with a pencil for a nose who would make drawings out a few lines that kids “sent in”. It was amazing, he always managed to make a seal with a ball on its nose. And the blackboard spoke. He would say “Hurry Up” in a deep voice. I think it was Mr Squiggle who would say “upside-down” while jumping about. Then he’d take off back up to moon in his rocket. Those were the days.
We play Mr Squiggle in class when we are bored. I did it the other day in Business Studies. Nikki drew the lines and then we both had a go. I drew a large tropical bird, and Nikki drew a very elaborate nudist beach. We shant go into that.
I can’t believe how much I have written. Maybe I should blog when I am tired more often. Actually - this is more out of laziness. I am really dreading getting out of this chair.
I think I’ve finally run out of things to say. You know what comes next.. Bye