Date: September 18, 2018
Someone pinned this up in the hallway outside of the painting studio, and this pretty much sums up exactly where I am right now.
My mom's been getting on my case about making friends lately. She thinks it's weird that I've been in school for two weeks and don't have anyone to eat lunch with yet. I'm pretty sure she's the weird one – no one else can be as social as she is. My mom's the kind of lady who makes friends with the people behind her on line at the supermarket. She even went out on a date once with a guy who rear-ended her.
I don't think it's weird that I don't have friends. And even if I wanted to make friends, which I don't, I don't really know what I'm supposed to say to do that. Before, in high school, when people came to talk to me I knew what they wanted before they even opened their mouths. A poster for this club, or “hey, can you draw me?” or something. It was always because I was the best artist in school. People only wanted to talk to me because of what I could do for them. But now I don't even have that.
Not that I miss high school. I'd take no friends over fake friends any day.
J.