14/03/50

I did something incredibly stupid last night. I was so sick of this boring state, and so sick of my flaky friends, that I actually downed a whole container of sleeping pills. In true form, my husband came home before they could kill me properly and had medics swap my blood and empty my stomach. I knew that had happened when I woke up alive. No one can consume that many pills without dying.

I pretended I didn't know what he was talking about when he confronted me. I made up some story about how I thought there had been a party and I had drunk too much. I'm sure he didn't believe that was what really happened, but I do think he believes that I don't remember what really happened.

I was thinking about music earlier. The trash they have out these days is just loud noises laced with bad vocals. It is absolutely horrible. The last time I heard anything worth listening to was when my father came home early one day and took out his old MP3 player. What ever happened to class? I don't want to hear songs about a trashy girl who feels used because one of her many boyfriends broke up with her. Sometimes I even wonder if people still sing the music or if they're done digitally.

The parlor is such a stupid thing. It is probably the bane of my existence. Each day I have to pretend to be riveted to the scenes, I have to pretend as if I actually enjoy the show. Though I do think the parlor is a better option compared to having to deal with my dumber than doornails husband.

The parlor came out with this new thing where they send the scripts out of the characters, with one part missing, and the watcher gets to act the missing role. I shall have fun with this, even if the plot is stupid. Maybe I can brush up on my acting skills. Wait, I don't need to brush up. I forgot for a moment that my whole life was just one big act. Silly me.

>Millie