Officially unemployed. JOY.
Tonight was probably the best night I've ever had at work, just because I knew I'd never have to go in there again. I was there until almost 1am processing gobacks, but I really didn't care. It was only when I started peeling shit off my locker that I started to feel sad. And when it looked like Christina was about to cry after she checked my shit out. Sadpants.
Oh well. On to bigger and better things, right? Right.
My last employee purchases were a black mock-turtleneck top and the jacket Mike's been lusting after. I meant to buy it for him weeks ago, but we were all out of his size and it was SHEER FATE that one was hanging on the front of the bays tonight. After work I dropped by Jordan's house to leave it with him, but he was passed out so I left it by his laptop with a note. He'd better effing love me forever. HEH!
In angst news. My paycheck was SOOOOO fucking short. So bad. $368? I THINK NOT. Soooo. I have to go in tomorrow and have my time checked. 'Cause I know that's waaaayyy off and someone probably forgot to clock me in for one or two of the overnight shifts last week. GREAT.
What to effing do for the rest of the week? Having nothing to do is new to me. Heh.
CHEV! I'm making an appointment tomorrow for Friday so you can fix my hair, ma'am. I really, really am.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
"When it's time for HIV, it's HIV time."
Tomorrow's my last day at Guess. I'm having mixed feelings about this. I'm going to miss everyone horribly even though I'm totally still gonna shop there. HEH.
Wow... I never actually thought about how amazing it's gonna be walking out of that store without having to have all my shit searched. WEEE! Getting checked out is such a fucking hassle.
Anyhow. How fucking fitting is it that I close on my last day? UGH. So gross.
In other news. I want a dog so bad it hurts. SO BAD.
Wow... I never actually thought about how amazing it's gonna be walking out of that store without having to have all my shit searched. WEEE! Getting checked out is such a fucking hassle.
Anyhow. How fucking fitting is it that I close on my last day? UGH. So gross.
In other news. I want a dog so bad it hurts. SO BAD.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Balls.
So Friday night I got off work at 7 and ended up in Shelton for Stompin' in the Woods. That drive... oh my god. Before that, the furthest I'd ever driven by myself was to Northgate, I'm pretty sure.
Hilariously enough, I got lost. HEH. Hannah texted me awesome directions, but somehow I ended up on highway 8 when I was supposed to follow 101 and I still don't get how that happened. When I realized what I did, I stopped in McCleary for sustenance, found my way back onto North 101 and got there just fine.
I drove for three hours straight. THREE HOURS. And when I finally got there I had to be snuck a bracelet and pretend I was Pepper because it cost fucking $50 to get in. HEH! From there Mike, Hannah and I went back to the tent ('cause Pepper is notorious for disappearing at these types of things) and started chugging peach schnapps and Rolling Rocks. Heh. I vaguely remember finding Pepper, wandering around and dancing like an idiot with my bottle of schnapps, critiqueing the music with great depth ("This is repetitive!"), pissing behind a tractor, offering to pee on Mike (HEH!), then going back to the tent and having some sort of deranged exchange of words with Hannah and Mike. Then I blacked out completely. Good thing I just fell asleep. Woke up at 8am and realized my phone was missing. Hannah had a voicemail from some dude calling from my phone saying he had it ('cause she was my last dialed call). Met up with him, got phone back, then Hannah and I went into town and had the loveliest little breakfast at this badass diner. Oh, biscuits and gravy. We're gonna get married one day.
Left for work at 11. BAD. IDEA. Like a retard, I got BACK ON North 101 instead of South. Followed that for about 30 minutes before I realized my blatant idiocy. Turned around. Took me an hour to get back to I-5. I realized I was gonna be about an hour late to work when I got stuck in traffic in Seattle for the third time. Called into work to let them know and everything was cool. Got stuck in traffic two more times in Everett. Fucking hell. Made it to work at 2. An hour late.
Saturday after work I went to Dave and Erin's and got shit-faced. Awesome times. Terry and I didn't get back to his house until 4am. Eff.
Why am I awake? Ugh. Last night I got off work at 8:20-ish, got gas, picked up some Blue Moon pumpkin ale and went home. Started watching Goldmember and chugged down half of one beer. Next thing I know, it's 6am and Terry's leaving for work. Ack. I don't even have to be to work until 3 today. Balls. I'm really not looking forward to closing. At all. Oh well. The upside of being up so early is that I can get super fancy today. Ya know, shower, shave, fight with my hair for an hour, etc. I might throw on the new heels. *GASP*
Face.
Hilariously enough, I got lost. HEH. Hannah texted me awesome directions, but somehow I ended up on highway 8 when I was supposed to follow 101 and I still don't get how that happened. When I realized what I did, I stopped in McCleary for sustenance, found my way back onto North 101 and got there just fine.
I drove for three hours straight. THREE HOURS. And when I finally got there I had to be snuck a bracelet and pretend I was Pepper because it cost fucking $50 to get in. HEH! From there Mike, Hannah and I went back to the tent ('cause Pepper is notorious for disappearing at these types of things) and started chugging peach schnapps and Rolling Rocks. Heh. I vaguely remember finding Pepper, wandering around and dancing like an idiot with my bottle of schnapps, critiqueing the music with great depth ("This is repetitive!"), pissing behind a tractor, offering to pee on Mike (HEH!), then going back to the tent and having some sort of deranged exchange of words with Hannah and Mike. Then I blacked out completely. Good thing I just fell asleep. Woke up at 8am and realized my phone was missing. Hannah had a voicemail from some dude calling from my phone saying he had it ('cause she was my last dialed call). Met up with him, got phone back, then Hannah and I went into town and had the loveliest little breakfast at this badass diner. Oh, biscuits and gravy. We're gonna get married one day.
Left for work at 11. BAD. IDEA. Like a retard, I got BACK ON North 101 instead of South. Followed that for about 30 minutes before I realized my blatant idiocy. Turned around. Took me an hour to get back to I-5. I realized I was gonna be about an hour late to work when I got stuck in traffic in Seattle for the third time. Called into work to let them know and everything was cool. Got stuck in traffic two more times in Everett. Fucking hell. Made it to work at 2. An hour late.
Saturday after work I went to Dave and Erin's and got shit-faced. Awesome times. Terry and I didn't get back to his house until 4am. Eff.
Why am I awake? Ugh. Last night I got off work at 8:20-ish, got gas, picked up some Blue Moon pumpkin ale and went home. Started watching Goldmember and chugged down half of one beer. Next thing I know, it's 6am and Terry's leaving for work. Ack. I don't even have to be to work until 3 today. Balls. I'm really not looking forward to closing. At all. Oh well. The upside of being up so early is that I can get super fancy today. Ya know, shower, shave, fight with my hair for an hour, etc. I might throw on the new heels. *GASP*
Face.
Friday, August 22, 2008
YOY.
So I just applied for like four jobs. HEH. One has to do with maintaining a website for a business in Smokey Point, one is working at three Ed Wyse locations, one is a picker/packer job, and one is for a mailroom. All $10 an hour or more. Are you fucking kidding me? Can someone please tell me why I stayed at Guess for so long for not even $9 an hour? Because I really don't fucking know.
Cannot WAIT until next Thursday. Last day ever in that hellhole piece of shit sweatshop. Thank GOD.
Cannot WAIT until next Thursday. Last day ever in that hellhole piece of shit sweatshop. Thank GOD.
FUCKFUCKFUCK.
So. It's about time that I explain a little something...
I have a degenerative disease passed on from my Gramma's side of the family that causes my teeth to rot for no reason. Most of you don't know this because I wear an elastomer 'grill' over my top teeth on a constant basis. If you've ever wondered why my front four teeth are so brown at any given point, it's because the grill stains easily from my chain-smoking habit and I can barely afford to spend the $50 it takes to get a new one when it starts getting gross. And I don't have insurance, so I sure as hell can't afford to have all my teeth ripped out and get dentures. That's gonna set me back, oh, about $15,000.
I did, however, get a new one last week. I took it out and had wrapped it in a paper towel on the table because my cavities were starting to hurt. Went to sleep. Woke up about an hour ago, and it's gone. Dug through the trash, which had recently been changed. Gone. My fucking teeth are in the garbage outside. I KNOW IT. If I can't find them tomorrow, I'm not leaving the house. I don't care that I have to work at 11. I seriously have half of two of my front teeth missing. I look like a fucking crackhead and I'm not going out in public.
WHAT THE FUCK AM I GONNA DO?
EDIT 7:04AM: Found them. After going through the nasty trash outside which was full of cigarette butts and coffee grounds and food and NOT finding them, I decided to go through the trash in the kitchen a little more thoroughly. And there they fucking were. UGH.
I was kinda hoping I was gonna get to call into work. NOPE. Oh well.
I have a degenerative disease passed on from my Gramma's side of the family that causes my teeth to rot for no reason. Most of you don't know this because I wear an elastomer 'grill' over my top teeth on a constant basis. If you've ever wondered why my front four teeth are so brown at any given point, it's because the grill stains easily from my chain-smoking habit and I can barely afford to spend the $50 it takes to get a new one when it starts getting gross. And I don't have insurance, so I sure as hell can't afford to have all my teeth ripped out and get dentures. That's gonna set me back, oh, about $15,000.
I did, however, get a new one last week. I took it out and had wrapped it in a paper towel on the table because my cavities were starting to hurt. Went to sleep. Woke up about an hour ago, and it's gone. Dug through the trash, which had recently been changed. Gone. My fucking teeth are in the garbage outside. I KNOW IT. If I can't find them tomorrow, I'm not leaving the house. I don't care that I have to work at 11. I seriously have half of two of my front teeth missing. I look like a fucking crackhead and I'm not going out in public.
WHAT THE FUCK AM I GONNA DO?
EDIT 7:04AM: Found them. After going through the nasty trash outside which was full of cigarette butts and coffee grounds and food and NOT finding them, I decided to go through the trash in the kitchen a little more thoroughly. And there they fucking were. UGH.
I was kinda hoping I was gonna get to call into work. NOPE. Oh well.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Fuck beans.
So I guess I AM working through next week. Not gonna bother asking to extend my two weeks 'cause Shelby's already outsourced a replacement for Chelsey and I. And he's gonna be an actual stock manager, so the word goes. Fucking. Amazing. Funny how bad she panicked when Chelsey and I both decided to leave at the same time, eh?
Whatever.
I swear, if only Shelby was out of the picture and Angel was the store manager... shit would be so different.
I'm terrified, you guys. So fucking scared. I got so comfortable there that I really don't know what I'm going to do after it's over and I never really thought about it. I mean, when I really sit back and think about it, this job was one I was practically forced into for a week or so and they ended up deciding I was (sort of) worth something. So I just stayed and tolerated so much bullshit for slave wages for SO long. I think I'm a fucking masochist.
One more paycheck and then I'm seriously destitute. The paycheck's gonna be huge 'cause I'm getting my vacation time tacked onto it, but still. What the fuck am I gonna do with my lives? I'm figuring that I'm probably gonna run somewhere like Coach or Ann Taylor (both of which pay VERY decent) in a panic because retail/stock is the only trade I fucking know. And am I the type of person to throw myself into a situation outside of my comfort zone? Absolutely not.
I know there's something out there for me that will actually pay me what I'm worth and I'll be fucking amazing at, but I'm way too scared to go out and get it because somewhere in the back of my head, there's still the looming possibility of rejection. Ugh.
So here I sit in my comfy pants, downloading copious amounts of N.E.R.D., downing Rolling Rocks like the brewery is about to be shut down. Something tells me this is exactly where I'm gonna be for the next few months.
/end quarter-life crisis rant
On that note. The amount of hip-hop I've been listening to lately is strange and disturbing. And yet I'm enjoying it immensely. Heh! But then, it's not bullshit "Cashmoneymillionairefuckin'bitchesshootyouintheface" hip-hop. It's actually... decent. Ya know, with substance and some inkling of thought put into the lyrics. Heh. Still, the me a year ago would beat the living fuck out of me today. So goes the evolution of Bre. I blame it on working at Guess for fifty million years.
Whatever.
I swear, if only Shelby was out of the picture and Angel was the store manager... shit would be so different.
I'm terrified, you guys. So fucking scared. I got so comfortable there that I really don't know what I'm going to do after it's over and I never really thought about it. I mean, when I really sit back and think about it, this job was one I was practically forced into for a week or so and they ended up deciding I was (sort of) worth something. So I just stayed and tolerated so much bullshit for slave wages for SO long. I think I'm a fucking masochist.
One more paycheck and then I'm seriously destitute. The paycheck's gonna be huge 'cause I'm getting my vacation time tacked onto it, but still. What the fuck am I gonna do with my lives? I'm figuring that I'm probably gonna run somewhere like Coach or Ann Taylor (both of which pay VERY decent) in a panic because retail/stock is the only trade I fucking know. And am I the type of person to throw myself into a situation outside of my comfort zone? Absolutely not.
I know there's something out there for me that will actually pay me what I'm worth and I'll be fucking amazing at, but I'm way too scared to go out and get it because somewhere in the back of my head, there's still the looming possibility of rejection. Ugh.
So here I sit in my comfy pants, downloading copious amounts of N.E.R.D., downing Rolling Rocks like the brewery is about to be shut down. Something tells me this is exactly where I'm gonna be for the next few months.
/end quarter-life crisis rant
On that note. The amount of hip-hop I've been listening to lately is strange and disturbing. And yet I'm enjoying it immensely. Heh! But then, it's not bullshit "Cashmoneymillionairefuckin'bitchesshootyouintheface" hip-hop. It's actually... decent. Ya know, with substance and some inkling of thought put into the lyrics. Heh. Still, the me a year ago would beat the living fuck out of me today. So goes the evolution of Bre. I blame it on working at Guess for fifty million years.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Amazing how everything can change in an instant...
1. Got a random call from Terry on my lunch break on Saturday. He wanted me to meet up with him at the Hotel after work. I did. You know the rest.
2. Put in my two weeks at work on... Thursday? I'm now extremely conflicted as to whether or not I should stay through the 1st because if I don't, I don't get my $125 gas card from the contest we're about to win. Fuck my life.
3. My boss is a bitch and is just phasing me off the schedule after this week. I thought it was called a "two-week notice" for a reason.
So Saturday night I got off work early, headed to Stanwood and met up with Terry at the bar. Got an AMF, sat outside on the swinging bench forever and talked. Yes, we're back together. BUT. I am extremely skeptical this time (which doesn't feel great, let me tell you) and I honestly won't be surprised if this all goes down in flames in two seconds. And with that said, I probably won't be that upset about it, either. I'm just kinda going with it, seeing what happens. If it works, great! I love Terry and I've missed the awesome side of him horribly. If not, see ya.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm not going into this like I have the other three times madly in love and submitting to his fancies without question. I want us to work our way back to where our peak was and hopefully have it stay there for a while. No more overbearing girlfriend. Not this time.
Anyhow. Went back to his place, got drunk and blasted music all night. Slept for a grand total of 30 minutes. Got up at 5, went to work. Worked 'til 9. Went back to Terry's, passed out for three hours. Got up, went into Smokey Point randomly so Terry could pick up the new Weezer at Best Buy. Got myself a fancy new copy of SLC Punk for $10. Scarfed some Taco Bell, went back to the island. Polished off my 5th of SoCo. Left for work again at 7. Worked 8-3am, back to Terry's. Slept for two hours. Took Terry to work at 7. Home, passed the fuck out until 6pm.
Fuckin' hell.
Left for work at 6:20. Worked 7-2am. Just got home a little bit ago. I got myself a fancy little black dress with asymmetrical detailing (which is super fancy for being G by Guess, 'cause normally that line sucks BALLS) and the pumps I've been lusting after. LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THEM! Heh! They're just basic patent pumps, but they fucking fade from this super dark burgundy color at the heel to blood red at the toe. SO. SEXUAL. And so uncomfortable. But I figure all my heels can be uncomfortable 'cause I only ever wear them when I'm shit-faced and I can't feel my feet anyway. Heh!
I found the dress:
It looks much better on me. Heh.
So the rest of the week looks like AIDS.
Tuesday: 8pm-1am (men's merch pack)
Wednesday: off
Thursday: off
Friday: 11-7
Saturday: 1-9.
Saturday will be my official last day unless I decide to stay on until the 1st. I just don't know. I want that fucking gas card, but it's the principal of the whole thing. I want to fucking stick to my convictions for once, ya know? If I ask Shelby to rip up my two weeks, I'll feel like a little bitch. Even though I'll just be handing her another one a week later. Heh.
Off to go type words at Mr. Mike-pants. Heh.
2. Put in my two weeks at work on... Thursday? I'm now extremely conflicted as to whether or not I should stay through the 1st because if I don't, I don't get my $125 gas card from the contest we're about to win. Fuck my life.
3. My boss is a bitch and is just phasing me off the schedule after this week. I thought it was called a "two-week notice" for a reason.
So Saturday night I got off work early, headed to Stanwood and met up with Terry at the bar. Got an AMF, sat outside on the swinging bench forever and talked. Yes, we're back together. BUT. I am extremely skeptical this time (which doesn't feel great, let me tell you) and I honestly won't be surprised if this all goes down in flames in two seconds. And with that said, I probably won't be that upset about it, either. I'm just kinda going with it, seeing what happens. If it works, great! I love Terry and I've missed the awesome side of him horribly. If not, see ya.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm not going into this like I have the other three times madly in love and submitting to his fancies without question. I want us to work our way back to where our peak was and hopefully have it stay there for a while. No more overbearing girlfriend. Not this time.
Anyhow. Went back to his place, got drunk and blasted music all night. Slept for a grand total of 30 minutes. Got up at 5, went to work. Worked 'til 9. Went back to Terry's, passed out for three hours. Got up, went into Smokey Point randomly so Terry could pick up the new Weezer at Best Buy. Got myself a fancy new copy of SLC Punk for $10. Scarfed some Taco Bell, went back to the island. Polished off my 5th of SoCo. Left for work again at 7. Worked 8-3am, back to Terry's. Slept for two hours. Took Terry to work at 7. Home, passed the fuck out until 6pm.
Fuckin' hell.
Left for work at 6:20. Worked 7-2am. Just got home a little bit ago. I got myself a fancy little black dress with asymmetrical detailing (which is super fancy for being G by Guess, 'cause normally that line sucks BALLS) and the pumps I've been lusting after. LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THEM! Heh! They're just basic patent pumps, but they fucking fade from this super dark burgundy color at the heel to blood red at the toe. SO. SEXUAL. And so uncomfortable. But I figure all my heels can be uncomfortable 'cause I only ever wear them when I'm shit-faced and I can't feel my feet anyway. Heh!
I found the dress:
It looks much better on me. Heh.
So the rest of the week looks like AIDS.
Tuesday: 8pm-1am (men's merch pack)
Wednesday: off
Thursday: off
Friday: 11-7
Saturday: 1-9.
Saturday will be my official last day unless I decide to stay on until the 1st. I just don't know. I want that fucking gas card, but it's the principal of the whole thing. I want to fucking stick to my convictions for once, ya know? If I ask Shelby to rip up my two weeks, I'll feel like a little bitch. Even though I'll just be handing her another one a week later. Heh.
Off to go type words at Mr. Mike-pants. Heh.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
"...and the closer I am to the garbage, the closer I am to Bre."
<3 from Karyssa. Said today. And so true.
Work sucks. Worksucksworksucksworksucks. It's balls.
Toooodaaaaayyyyy. Got 188 boxes of shipment on top of the near-200 we already had in the stockroom. So over it.
...again. And what made today's shipment debacle so much more amazing was the fact that the handheld we use to scan in shipment kept dying and so we had to cut the fucking UPS labels off every goddamn box that we had to move out of immediate reach so it could be scanned in later. Poor Christina is probably having to re-scan 188 boxes as I type. If there's anything I've learned in my near two-year tenure at Guess, it's that I could NEVER be paid enough to be a manager at that fucking store.
And today was Chelsey's birthday. And she had to deal with all this shit. Suck. Ass. By the time we got all the boxes into the stockroom I just wanted to curl up and fucking die. THEN! Chelsey and I (and we're TINY, you guys!) had to team up and lift 50 pound boxes of bags up on top of the bays. Like 15 of them. INSAAAANE.
But Chelsey and I totally dove into the garbage compactor today on our break after a guy from Geoffry Beene tossed a bunch of plastic torsos and dressforms. Got two plastic males (one for Mike), and a female dressform for myself. WEWT!
I'm done talking about work. I'ma go get wasted with Mike somewhere. Heh.
Who has the next three days off? I DO, SLUTS!!!!
Work sucks. Worksucksworksucksworksucks. It's balls.
Toooodaaaaayyyyy. Got 188 boxes of shipment on top of the near-200 we already had in the stockroom. So over it.
...again. And what made today's shipment debacle so much more amazing was the fact that the handheld we use to scan in shipment kept dying and so we had to cut the fucking UPS labels off every goddamn box that we had to move out of immediate reach so it could be scanned in later. Poor Christina is probably having to re-scan 188 boxes as I type. If there's anything I've learned in my near two-year tenure at Guess, it's that I could NEVER be paid enough to be a manager at that fucking store.
And today was Chelsey's birthday. And she had to deal with all this shit. Suck. Ass. By the time we got all the boxes into the stockroom I just wanted to curl up and fucking die. THEN! Chelsey and I (and we're TINY, you guys!) had to team up and lift 50 pound boxes of bags up on top of the bays. Like 15 of them. INSAAAANE.
But Chelsey and I totally dove into the garbage compactor today on our break after a guy from Geoffry Beene tossed a bunch of plastic torsos and dressforms. Got two plastic males (one for Mike), and a female dressform for myself. WEWT!
I'm done talking about work. I'ma go get wasted with Mike somewhere. Heh.
Who has the next three days off? I DO, SLUTS!!!!
Monday, August 4, 2008
Fancy.
Friday. Went out to the casino with Mike, Aaron, Brenda and Mike's co-worker Justin. Got wasted in the nifty little "Mpulse" lounge. It's spiffy. And I want all the furniture for my future apartment.
Saturday. Off work at 9 'cause we were over payroll. Picked up some shit at Walmart and then met up with Mike, Pepper and Hannah at Nate's new apartment. Which is fancy. Stood on Lake City Way and chugged peach schnapps. Went across the street and had a drink. Stumbled to Dick's for foodz. Went into this little porn shop on the way back to Nate's and saw the most horrifying thing ever. A dildo about the size of my entire calf (and girthier, even) in a glass case that had WHAT written on it? URBAN. BOMBSHELLS. How classy is that? I laughed my ass off. 'Cause their show is SOOOOO 'revolutionary' that they have to advertise themselves on low-grade, oversized sex toys in a low-volume porn shop. I'm just surprised that one of Sarah's homemade "one-of-a-kind" pasties wasn't stuck to the tip.
/end tangent.
Anyway. Took Pepper to see some guy at Studio 7. Went back to Lake City to get my car and went home.
Sunday. Worked 1-9. Waited for Mike to get off work so we could go back to the casino for a night cap. Woooo. Got home a little bit ago and had the most glorious shower ever. I just wanna say that I smell amazing.
Tomorrow. Work 11-7. Then nothing. I'll probably just go home and sleep.
Oh, and I guess Warped Tour isn't happening (and we're not gonna be able to afford it anyway what with having to buy camping tickets, show tickets, gas and foodz), so I have the ENTIRE next weekend off. AMAZING. I can't wait.
AND MY BIRTHDAY'S COMING UP. Good ol' 24. I decided I need to do something ridiculously over-the-top. 'Cause I never ever do. Soooo yeah. I need to start planning shit out.
Saturday. Off work at 9 'cause we were over payroll. Picked up some shit at Walmart and then met up with Mike, Pepper and Hannah at Nate's new apartment. Which is fancy. Stood on Lake City Way and chugged peach schnapps. Went across the street and had a drink. Stumbled to Dick's for foodz. Went into this little porn shop on the way back to Nate's and saw the most horrifying thing ever. A dildo about the size of my entire calf (and girthier, even) in a glass case that had WHAT written on it? URBAN. BOMBSHELLS. How classy is that? I laughed my ass off. 'Cause their show is SOOOOO 'revolutionary' that they have to advertise themselves on low-grade, oversized sex toys in a low-volume porn shop. I'm just surprised that one of Sarah's homemade "one-of-a-kind" pasties wasn't stuck to the tip.
/end tangent.
Anyway. Took Pepper to see some guy at Studio 7. Went back to Lake City to get my car and went home.
Sunday. Worked 1-9. Waited for Mike to get off work so we could go back to the casino for a night cap. Woooo. Got home a little bit ago and had the most glorious shower ever. I just wanna say that I smell amazing.
Tomorrow. Work 11-7. Then nothing. I'll probably just go home and sleep.
Oh, and I guess Warped Tour isn't happening (and we're not gonna be able to afford it anyway what with having to buy camping tickets, show tickets, gas and foodz), so I have the ENTIRE next weekend off. AMAZING. I can't wait.
AND MY BIRTHDAY'S COMING UP. Good ol' 24. I decided I need to do something ridiculously over-the-top. 'Cause I never ever do. Soooo yeah. I need to start planning shit out.
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