Stress Tests.

There were many events in my early-adult years that caused me much stress.

For example, a steady boyfriend who wouldn't publically acknowledge me as his girlfriend, or the multitudes of rumours that wiz'd around Centennial concerning my one-night-stands with Josh Voynovich, the first of course, ending my long term relationship with my pussy-of-a-boyfriend.

Stress now, comes in a crap load of different packages. Not having enough money to pay bills, the constant strain of attempting to figure out how in God's name I'm going to pay for college. How my father continues to spend thousands, upon thousands while his bankaccount sits at a steady overdraft of thirty-one dollars and thirteen cence (Not including the self service fees and the overdraft interest, of course).
But that's only the money. The people make it worse. Mother's and their perpeptual guit trips, friends who are either too judgemental, or completely void of any sense of friendship and of course, boyfriends who, by their massive lack of relationship experience, fall a tad short in the girlfriend's-do-not-want-ironing-boards-for-their-birthday department (no, he didn't actually get me an ironing board. He'd rather get me absolutely nothing. Andrew hates shopping).

I'm only twenty-two. Life isn't supposed to be this stressful yet.

Fuck.