Whole day has just turned for the worst. I’m just gonna go home and sleep.
I hate my body. Everything about it. There isn’t a single thing I like. I’m overweight and disgusting.
So fucking ready for my 3 day weekend. Even though I work at the Sunbird on Sunday, it’s not even like work, just hanging with my friends. I miss being there all the time.
Dreading work tomorrow. Already looking for something new.
Have to get new contacts because my last pair has magically fucking disappeared.
I’m just stressed out to no end. It’s been two weeks and I need a break. Fast.
Time for some decent sleep and all after some good hangs at village inn. Goodnight.
When people ask if your eye color is real.
Yes, yes it is.
I just wanna run away for a week. Just go somewhere by myself, discover new music, buy some nice clothes, eat lovely food, hike in places I haven’t been to, meet some nice new people, and then come back and share happiness.
But instead I’m stuck working 50 hours a week waiting to catch my break. The American fucking dream.