Firstly I would just like to welcome my new follower to the failspace express:
I hope you enjoy your ride (That sounds sooo wrong!).
Secondly, it’s all about me. Me, me, me. Ok, seriously, I’ll stop repeating “me”.
Today I have my job interview. I have precisely six hours and forty seven minutes until I walk through that door at the art gallery. I’ve forgotten the guys name. Was it Steven? Stuart? Stewart? Argh!
I suppose you could say that I’m stressing over nothing. I need this job!!!
Thirdly, my partner:
He’s going into hospital tomorrow. I’m hoping for some good news, but I’m quite worried about that too. I just want what’s best for him. I don’t know if that’s having an illness that can be quenched or not doing & going to his dream job still confused about himself.
It’s unfortunate that we as women have to put ourselves through the same ole bullshit over and over before we start to get it. Why do we put ourselves in crappy situations? It’s time to put the phone down and stop texting him, asking him why he never responds and why all these other girls claim him. Stop worrying about how you look because theres someone who loves or will love you just the way you are. Stop frowning because a man told you that you could no longer satisfy him. Trust me, “the grass is greener” ain’t a lie. There are other fish. Stop fretting over the small shit when you know for a damn fact the big shit better be sweating over you. Us as women need to keep our chins up. Let them niggas see you sweat. Show the world that your struggles have made you the woman you are today. Fuck what they thought, we’re doing big things.
Okay so this one time, I was peeing, right? And I go to sit down and it just pours out of me because I had just drank like 6 glasses of sweet tea so my bladder was working overtime. But anyways, I look to my left and notice that I was out of fucking toilet paper. Like really? How could this happen? I don’t even know. But yeah, so after like 10 fucking minutes of peeing, I decided I was going to drip dry. I mean what other option did I have, right? But that wasn’t working out, since I had just released Niagra fucking Falls out of my urethra, it was taking too long to dry and I had lots to do, you know? I have a life and all. So I came to the conclusion that I’d travel across the house to my mom’s bathroom and grab some toilet paper, with my pants around my ankles the whole time. Yeah, well, not only do I trip and fall, but I was also spotted hopping across the family room by my step-dad. He was out in the backyard messing with shrubberies or some shit, and the whole back side of my house is covered in windows / glass doors. So yeah, he basically got a full-frontal view of my vajayjay. At dinner that night, he kept looking at me all funny. Then after that, he announced that he was going to the store and asked me if I needed anything, and he suggested razors. fml.