If you were to weigh three-hundred plus pounds, be forced to rely on the use of a cane when you walk, and dress in pretty much a king-sized bedsheet, would you feel comfortable leaving your house? Just a thought...
work
2005-11-08 / 9:40 p.m.
Dear self,
Absolutely no more work meetings. Sitting in a hard ass mother fucking chair for six and a half hours is way too much to ask of me.
love, me
here we go again.
2005-11-07 / 1:16 p.m.
Today is one of THOSE days.
I think I need a break from life. I'd love to drive up north when/if I get some time off. I just need to get away from things/people for a while.
I don't think my problem is today. It's been one of THOSE twelve months.
wink.
2005-11-05 / 1:05 p.m.
I have today off, which is a fucking rarity if you know me at all. I work eight days a week. So all day I'm reveling in my twenty-four hours of complete freedom, and will be doing jack shit.
Get ahold of me somehow if jack shit sounds like fun.