Love Is for Losers by Wibke Brueggemann (ebook pc reader .txt) 📗

of throwing myself under a bus, she’d have been like: That’s great, Phoebe.

She just doesn’t care, and I hate that, and I hate that I hate it, because I want to not care as well.

The fact that Miriam Patel is still basically ignoring me because of me calling her a fuckwit totally doesn’t bother me. On the contrary, it’s making my life a hundred times better, but Polly’s indifference is making me want to be sick.

How can a boyfriend replace a best friend?

PS: I just Googled above question, and the answer is: A boyfriend cannot replace a best friend, because:

a)  You need your best friend to talk to about your boyfriend.

b)  Your best friend is objective when you are not.

c)  Boyfriends are temporary; best friends are for life.

Doesn’t Polly realize any of this?

PS: Life would be so much easier if we didn’t have feelings. Like Mr. Data in Star Trek. I know he’s not an actual person, but an android, but he’s a proper genius until Geordi installs the emotion chip, at which point Data basically breaks.

I’m really trying to not have feelings, but when I look at Polly and I think that I don’t know her anymore, some fragments of emotion literally eat their way through the iron shield around my soul. Like acid, all burning and sting-y.

Thursday, March 8 #MiddleClassProblems

This afternoon a customer complained to me that our selection of Easter cards lacked those featuring Jesus on the cross. She then went on ranting about how even Easter eggs don’t say “Easter” anymore, but are now labeled “chocolate” eggs, and how political correctness has gone too far, because at the end of the day, this is still “our” country.

I’m not being funny, but unless once upon a time Jesus laid a chocolate egg, I really don’t know what that woman was even talking about.

I wish I’d said something clever, but because I was so shocked by her casual racism, I ended up not saying anything.

Gastroporn James came to the shop this afternoon, and here’s my question:

Do people think they look good when they’re flirting?

Because Kate looked like she had nits, forever running her fingers through her hair.

Emma and I were watching them for ages, and then Emma went: “He is very good-looking, isn’t he?”

I was going to ask her about Luke Skywalker then, but I didn’t.

Now I feel physically weighed down by all the words I didn’t say today.

My life would be so much easier if I wasn’t this awkward.

Friday, March 9 #ItsAMadWorld

I just spent an hour looking at Emma’s Instagram, trying to figure her out.

Maybe I should Google her.

11:55 P.M.

Googled her. Nothing.

Saturday, March 10 #LifeSucks

I wonder what Polly is doing. How is she not missing me? Half of the time I can’t work out if I’m sad or just offended. How can ten years of friendship have been this inconsequential?

It’s not even that I feel the need to tell her all about Dad, but it would be nice to just go and get Starbucks together. Thing with Polly is, she always has something to say, and sometimes, when I don’t feel like talking, which I admit is often, she’ll just read me something boring from the Metro. Or she’ll pretend to be doing the sudoku, but because she hates it and doesn’t understand how numbers work, I end up doing it all for her.

I hate that my life’s so shit.

And I know that I have sort of made new friends, but I can’t exactly ask Emma if I can sit with her in Starbucks in silence and do a sudoku.

I reckon I could ask Alex, though.

But he’s got the busiest social life out of everyone I know, plus I don’t want to force myself onto people.

It’s Mother’s Day tomorrow.

Emma says they’re driving down to Brighton for the day to go shopping and have lunch. Mum and I have never done anything like that. I mean, not that I want to, I’m just saying.

Sunday, March 11 #HappyMothersDay

I never really thought about it before, but Mother’s Day is actually totally offensive to people who haven’t got mothers. Like Valentine’s Day is offensive to single people.

Every Happy Mother’s Day card/bouquet/selection of pralines is literally laughing in your face, going: You’ve got no one to give me to.

I suppose I should have gotten Kate something.

Nature was all in my face, too, with daffodils and birds and so much sunshine that my retinas ached.

Kate and I went out to have a pretend Mother’s Day dinner at the Goat, and because Gastroporn James wasn’t working, Kate was like: “Well, they’ve just lost five stars on their TripAdvisor rating.”

PS: Not looking forward to school tomorrow.

It’s all about GCSEs now, which is so stressful because:

a)  The teachers are losing their minds over it.

b)  The parents are losing their minds over it.

c) Everyone else is consequently also losing their minds over it.

And I know GCSE stands for General Certificate of Secondary Education, but it really should mean Great Compulsory Scholarly Evil, because how is it not evil to make us take up to two exams a day for, like, six weeks?

Magda Jennings said that her cousin, who’s Italian and lives in Italy, doesn’t have to do GCSEs at all. Apparently they have quizzes and three main exams in every subject, but spread over the year, and the average is your overall grade. Which is so much fairer. Because what if you happen to have a really bad week in life and all the important GCSEs happen to be in that exact week? Like: What if you’re 100 percent hormonally challenged because you’re on your period, or you feel like shit because you’ve got a cold or a headache that won’t go away? All exams that week could potentially be ruined, indicating that you suck, which isn’t true.

PPS: I hadn’t actually really thought about it, but I just worked out that I’ll be taking twenty-seven exams over six weeks.

And yes, they may be idiotic, because you mainly have to just learn things off