Dear Diary, I Always Forget You're Here

I knew I shouldn't have bothered starting these things. My life is either awful or boring, sometimes both. Why do I want to keep a record of it?

I have nothing to write, except that whoever decided on the new costs for the permits is a giant asshole. Seriously, I hope he or she dies in a ditch; actually, I'd be willing to dig it and push him in.

Really, I'm not even so upset at the cost, even though it is outrageously high to the point of being akin to theft. What's worse is that I'm going to have to waste time tracking down some incredibly boring person to buy the permit from, and carry on some sort of moronic conversation with him or her. I'm sure whoever it is that I'll need to go to is a giant ass, just like almost everyone else in this town.