there are so many beds i could pass out in, but they are all fairly discomfortable +/or too recently occupied. every three days, i change the sheets of my own bed b/c stray colors keep curling up under the pillows + dyeing themselves to death.

i am never having children. if i was less selfish, i would have mentioned this before my teeth started chipping the teacups. everyone says i can't do anything right; that i am so sad, like a unicorn covered in scabies. this probably isn't a surprise, but i'm never going to be thin again. most of my extra-germanic orifices are filled w/ troll paste + dead gingerbreadman dough.

yesterday morning, i disguised myself as a stepsister + wandered around the forest, asking for opinions about myself. one of the talking trees said that i seemed to be doing well, that i still looked like a natural brunette. the tree said that he heard that i was careless w/ other smaller living creatures though, that nobody in the forest really believed that there was nothing i could have done to prevent the wizard's parakeet from drowning in less than two inches of water.