I love how I say one thing and then go do the exact opposite.
Last night after work I was heading home. I get a call from Justin begging me to come get him 'cause he's in a super un-fun situation with people he lives with. And boy, can I relate. So I go get him in Smokey Point and decide I'm only going to stay at the apartment for an hour tops 'cause I had to work at 10am the next morning. Nope. Get inside, Kyle hands me a Busch and next thing you know I've got two games of beer pong under my belt.
FUCK MY LIFE.
This also led to other, more expensive purchases later that night, but that's for another blog entirely. I think I have about $30 to my name for the next week.
So yeah. Fuck. I made sure to get my ass home after work today before I started getting bombarded with "Where's Bre?" type calls.
It's Friday. There's gonna be a badass party at the apartment tonight (although... every night there is a fucking badass party). BUT. I'M STAYING HOME. I'm so fucking sick of waking up every morning feeling like I want to die and then having to go to work through it. My wallet is sick of me going to 7-Eleven every two hours for two more Four Lokos.
Oh. And I'm putting in my two weeks tomorrow. Have to get my surgery shit figured out 'cause one of my front teeth is still pushing against my left nostril. It doesn't really hurt anymore, but I need to get this shit taken care of anyway.
My belly's nice and full of tuna melt, so I'm thinking it's time for me to curl up with my cat on the couch and watch more Family Guy. Heh.
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