I hate having toes.

take turns imagining the diary entry of a teenager, with maxed out drama and agony.

Dear Diary,

Today, Abby stepped on my toes.  I punched her, and got sent to the principal's office.  No one cared that my toes are all ingrown, and it really hurt!  I guess I have to ask Mom for a pair of steel toed sneakers, because I am not able to control my fists when my toes get stepped on.  More later, Dad is calling me to dinner.

The End

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