So. I’m at camp. Which is yay, because I don’t have to deal with my parents for eight glorious weeks. But it’s also boo, because camp. I can’t get on the Internet or call anyone for eight whole weeks. What kind of ridiculous punishment is that? Speaking of, since I don’t have to see my therapist for eight weeks, she told me that I have to keep a journal while I’m at camp. Whatever.

Got here yesterday, and I already want to punch one of the other girls in my cabin. Her name is Brooke, and I think that if she had the option to dye her entire body pink, she probably would. She’s a prissy little goody-goody two shoes, and seriously, if I don’t punch her at any point during the next eight weeks, I’m going to deserve a medal. Or maybe a sainthood. At the...

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