Where can one buy a set of blue stickers for 20c?

Is it me or do eggs suddenly taste like powder?
It's a wonder.
So Christmas happened, and I have a tiny bruise the size of a fingerprint on the inside of my upper arm. This is most likely from little gremlins stealing into my room at night and punishing me for not painting them correctly, even though I've told them A THOUSAND TIMES that I'm painting elves- ELVES YOU HEARING-IMPAIRED FREAKS! GREMLINS JUST AREN'T CAPTURED QUALITY, I'M 'FRAID, BUT I'M NOT REALLY 'FRAID BECAUSE I DONT SPEAK SLANG- or from dressing up in fairy attire and roaming the streets at odd hours.
~ What exactly is an 'odd hour'? Any time that people would normally be asleep: say ten at night until six in the morning? And why is this odd? Does this accusation not hurt the feelings of these lonesome hours just sitting around the hands of time, minding their own business, sometimes poking each other or trying unsuccessfully to swap places?
Would a number still be the same if it changed position around the clock?
A lot of my day has revolved around me spilling and dropping food on myself. If that isn't class I don't know what is.

Here is my jar of all the good things that happened in 2013:

I wrote every extraordinary experience; every event, person or conversation that gave me that warm glow of happiness, on a small piece of paper, folded it into a microscopic speck and dropped it in, as if I was a child writing wishes to be sent off for the Reality Making Factory. Then I forgot about it.
It's all very thrilling. A lot of my happy notes are about having fun with friends and chance meetings.
Life swings on it's own orbit and throws us around, and a lot of the time we're too busy complaining and remembering the bad times that we forget about the good ones.
This one time, I had dreams.
I knew how life should go.
I really did, but I was just a kid,
and little did I know,
how hard the world would hit,
how easy it was to fall,
how the things you think would help you
were never there at all.
~No, I think you're wrong!
You've been old for so long,
and look tired from holding on
so tight,
It's alright,
cast your woes aside and write,
and dream
and believe,
that your wishes weren't pretend,
your broken faith I can mend,
take my hand, I know you can,
and let me help you shine again.

>It all started with one warm yet rainy day when I decided to purchase a painting for no reason. It ended with me misspelling chocolate and drinking slightly cool peppermint tea with milk because I had believed it to be Earl Grey. I scowled into my Milky Earl, wondering why there was no Cerri Grey, or even Cerri Red, or Cerri Green.
The flavours of Cerri just aren't defined, and it says a lot about the system.
I think I'd like to be Earl Cerri, and each batch would be different so people would protest in loud voices waking up elderly neighbours napping, and bump absent-mindedly into furniture, and swear obscenely whilst on crowded transport and even spit into the faces of strangers who would soon become lifelong friends.
All because of Cerri and the inability to capture all that is with only one flavour.

.. >_<