Darbi’s Diary: Reflections of a Housebound Aggie

Dear Diary,

I haven’t seen you in like 10 years — I probably wouldn’t have found you if I wasn’t using my old bookshelf as a makeshift graveyard for my Deep Eddy’s collection.

Looking back at some of these old diary pages from my childhood, I realize that not much has actually changed. I used to fill this book with emotional breakdowns about boys and stress, but now I’ve just shifted that over to my finsta. High School Musical is still an all-time favorite movie of mine, but I have noticed some major plot holes. You’re telling me the girl who unironically calls her boyfriend “wildcat” gets into Stanford? Troy follows his high school sweetheart to college and the relationship ends well? I don’t buy it.

I guess some things are different, though. Waking up at 11:00 a.m. in my childhood bedroom to see Kevin Jonas staring at me condescendingly from my old Camp Rock poster is rather depressing. He’s wearing straight bangs and a scarf at a summer camp, and he’s judging me. I also used to love playing with Doctor Barbie and pretending I had just graduated from med school. Now, that bitch seems passive-aggressive because I had to switch majors from biology to allied health.

It looks as though I complained a lot about school here. Like… a lot. Geez, how hard could fourth grade have been?

Like on page 22, I questioned why we even need school when we already have Google and Disney 411. Later on page 39, I wished everyone stayed home all day and did nothing but eat and sleep.

Oh sister, I hope you’re pleased with the shit you manifested. I won’t go into much detail, but maybe hold on to that bundle of toilet paper instead of using it to roll Kacey’s ex-boyfriend’s house.

Well… that’s it for today. Dad just realized thirty minutes into his Zoom meeting that he is talking into Photo Booth, and he’s calling me in for tech support.

 

Lay off the Easy-Bake Oven,

Darbi Deckchee

 

— Aggie Faceplant & Maroon Gloat