Marinara is so good.
Tomato are so bad (for me).
Life, why do you insist on giving me allergies to things I love?
Now my lips feel weird.
We’ve had like one damn day of reasonably cool weather and my skin decides it’s going to start the whole cracking and bleeding shit. wunderbar.
I really hate days where I can’t seem to get out of my own head for five minutes.
Fuck, I need a vacation from me.
I really, really wish I could get this job done without them. But nope.
- I hate cement.
- A water hose will only produce boiling (literally, it sizzled) hot water after a long sunny day.
- Sun block, sun block, sun block
- I fucking hate cement
- Holy shit i am so out of shape what the fuck. i used to be able to lift so much more than this!
- Did I mention I hate cement?
when a straight woman uses the term “girlfriend” to describe her platonic friend, rendering you momentarily surprised and delighted, then bummed when you realize that, yes, you are still alone in a crowd of straight people.
Today I managed to get lost on my way to my Job #2. I’ve been living in this city for…shit, seven years. Seven freaking years.
There’s this guy who’s started coming around the office a few times a week looking for any scrap we might be throwing out. He’s an older, rather talkative, god-fearin’-country-boy sort, and constantly reeks of alcohol.
I kind of wish he didn’t set off my creepy radar so badly; he seems harmless enough. Maybe it’s just how often he tells me “god bless ya, darlin’ ” in a single conversation (5’s the record so far).
Or maybe I’m just being a socially anxious freak, idek.