Dear Diary. I wake up with a numb ear because of the shit, cheap, thin pillow I had to use last night.

I look in the mirror. I wish I hadn’t. I look exactly as bad as I feel, which is quite bad. I look like something from a Romero movie. I look like I went ten rounds with Mike Tyson, and not in a pillow fight.

I have a “kill me now” expression and big eye bags. And the eye bags are shiny for some reason.

I remember when a kid at school asked me, "Who punched you?" and I replied, "No one," and he said, "Really though, who punched you?" and I said "No one," and he said, "But you have two black eyes, someone must have punched you in them," and he was right, I did have two black eyes, but only because I stayed up late every night playing Counter-Strike on the computer.

I don't play Counter-Strike anymore and I don't stay up late. But I do feel tired.