79 degrees outside, you say? Awesome, I get to work until midnight.
I recently discovered that the most effective way to get rid of random bouts of early morning anxiety is to touch yourself in the shower. Masturbate, be grateful you have a functioning pee-pee, and let the rest figure itself out.
I was reading an article on the Oakland Tribune, and I came across a user comment posted by my co-worker (fifty-something year-old night audit lady named Karen) saying, “Deez niggas be crazy!!!!!!!!” Oh, the fit of giggles that ensued made it hard to answer phones for a good minute.
She moved with a certain carefulness, as though there was always someone beside her whom she mustn’t wake. It was not with delicacy or grace that she carried herself, but rather with apprehension that everything around her was made of glass and would shatter at even the slightest touch. And sometimes they did, and the shards of the world she once knew would be strewn upon the ground. Yet she treaded on, leaving a blood-smeared trail of footprints behind her, each a bit fainter with every step she took, because she knew there was an end to this arduous journey. Hope fueled her mind, the way food and water fueled her body. And when this certain path ended, there’d be a sign marking the spot where the grass grew a little greener, and it would read, “Welcome to the beginning of the rest of your life.”
I am part of a secret group on Facebook and we discuss secret things and it makes me feel so secretive and bad and stuff (heheh) :3
:’)
My day off work yesterday started out alright, but after too much time alone to think I inevitably shot myself in the chest with my mental shotgun and along with my guts poured out all and any human emotion and I was a fucking zombie and zombies don’t have souls and it was cold and I didn’t want to talk or move or breathe. I avoided everyone, well, except Christian because that never happens, and only went out to go to the grocery store (we had to), and I frowned at the barista at Starbucks and everyone else and muttered, “Fuckin’ parasites,” to every fucker with a shopping cart and cried internally because my coffee wasn’t extra-extra-steamy-hot, just normal-hot. I was curled up in bed by eight, sulking and wishing I was a dying fart in an old folks’ home so I could poop my pants and be spoon-fed applesauce, and finally Christian decided he was tired of his girlfriend pretending to be a rock so he scooped me up in a blanket and stuck me in the car, saying “Come on, come on, hurry, hurry!” He didn’t answer when I asked where we were going and what were we so late for. I was pissed that I was forced out of my cave. I chain smoked and told him I didn’t want to see anyone, I wasn’t going to get out of the car. I was being a moody little bitch.
But Christian is great. He is really great. He knows when I’m in moody bitch mode, even he can’t get me talk so we don’t waste our time playing therapy. Instead he took me on a tour of the past two years we’ve shared, from the path we took our first walk together, to the hill where we first kissed, to the restaurant we had our first date at. He parked in the same spot in the abandoned parking lot we hung out at one day for hours, just bullshitting, getting to know each other. Tonight we sat there quietly and looked at the clouds passing by the moon. He went to the place the cops almost caught us boning in my car, but I drove away butt naked, and he was in the backseat with my pink sweater on backwards. We went to the neighborhood where we watched fireworks on the Fourth of July two summers ago, and the little girl who sat behind us kept letting hellish ones rip the entire time and it was awful and to be honest I don’t even remember the fireworks show, her gas was that bad. From point A to point B to point C, my self-pitying slowly dissolved as I realized I have so much to be grateful for, an infinite number of reasons to be happy. “Everyone has their off days,” Christian told me. “And that’s okay. I just hope that even when you’re upset, you never forget about the good days.”
GOALS FOR TODAY:
1. get laid
2. get inked
3. don’t die driving in the rain (keep in mind guys, i am a young asian female on the road. the odds are against me.)
I am bloated like a beached whale, it is mother nature’s way of telling me I am not pregnant and I should feel blessed so I will focus on today’s highlights, like brushing my teeth while taking a shower so I could dribble on myself :3
A guest asked me last night where my eyes are from. Where my eyes are from. I told him they were imported from Korea. What.
