The Power of Words

So after a slew of depressing songs and a waste of an entire day perusing my snaps of various happy memories, I have stopped feeling awful.

I didn’t ask to be adopted, frankly I wish I would’ve been aborted.  My day would’ve been a whole lot easier if I didn’t see the softball photographer’s face today.  She looked just like my mom.  I broke down in the dugout.  Then of course all the annoying girls are like, “What’s wrong?  What’s wrong?”  SHUT UP!  I DON’T WANT YOUR EFFING HELP!!!

And at softball one girl pelted me in the face with like 3 softballs.  They aren’t soft fyi.

OH!  And so Friday this some girls were playing in the outfield with me (they were texting) and completely ignoring what was going on.  So I was running the ENTIRE effing outfield.  That’s a lot.  A LOT.  One girl gave the coach attitude about being in the outfield and how she wanted to play infield.  So my coach tells her “Attitude won’t get you anywhere, you need to PROVE to me that you can play infield.  You are far from there.”  So today who does he put infield?  Yep.  And who has a bruise on her face? 

So, that’s wonderful, right?  Later on, I was going to bat and the first throw hit me in the ankle (hard enough for me to fall down and have tears).  I hate crying in public.  I hate it.  My ankle is HUGE.  Really big.  I ended up scoring a run.  Yay! 

I’m just so sick of school, softball, and adoption.  Invisibility, too…