CVS only carries crappy bootlaces, that I know are going to break in a week. And only laces that are about 6 inches too short, so that I can just barely tie them. And the guy behind me in line asked me if he could go ahead of me (the cashiers were being very slow) because he had to get to his father's bar mitzvah. And this man was at least 50, probably closer to sixty. So his father had to be at least 70, probably 80. Why would his father be having a bar mitzvah? But when I walked back to my truck, I saw him drive off in a car full of people in suits and nice dresses.
Where was he really going? Or was his aged father really being bar mitzvahed. Can I really use that as a verb? Could this be the end for the dynamic duo? Why can't I stop talking in questions?
I'm fucking tired. And I still have a day of work ahead of me. I think I'd rather work an extra few hours every day, and only work 5 days a week, than deal with this 6 day a week nonsense. I normally get off around 2 on saturdays, instead of six or seven like the rest of the week. But I still have to get up early, and do stuff I don't like for 7 hours.
My mom works for a small ariline at the small local airport. She said I could probably get a job there, behind a desk. But my boss would be this guy who is a notorious asshole, and I've had enough jobs where I have to please severely rich people all day. I think I'll stick with the mindnumbingly boring, sunburn causing, clothes-bleach staining, non lonely housewife fucking pool cleaning job for now. I swear I will save enough money to move off this damned island by winter. Or I might become a danger to others.
Where was he really going? Or was his aged father really being bar mitzvahed. Can I really use that as a verb? Could this be the end for the dynamic duo? Why can't I stop talking in questions?
I'm fucking tired. And I still have a day of work ahead of me. I think I'd rather work an extra few hours every day, and only work 5 days a week, than deal with this 6 day a week nonsense. I normally get off around 2 on saturdays, instead of six or seven like the rest of the week. But I still have to get up early, and do stuff I don't like for 7 hours.
My mom works for a small ariline at the small local airport. She said I could probably get a job there, behind a desk. But my boss would be this guy who is a notorious asshole, and I've had enough jobs where I have to please severely rich people all day. I think I'll stick with the mindnumbingly boring, sunburn causing, clothes-bleach staining, non lonely housewife fucking pool cleaning job for now. I swear I will save enough money to move off this damned island by winter. Or I might become a danger to others.