I hate work.
Like, I HATE work.
Not necessarily my job. I hate the whole fking system of waking up at the same time, driving to the same place, doing the same shit for five days straight just to earn two days of “freedom” that I’m too exhausted to actually enjoy.
Saturday is spent recovering.
Sunday is spent thinking about Monday.
Then Monday comes, and we do the whole damn thing AGAIN.
I’m not lazy. I work. I show up. I handle my sh*t.
I just refuse to believe we were put on this earth to spend most of our lives waiting for the weekend.
I was born for romantic love, Sunday funday, quality time, lying on the chest of the person I love, spending time with my loved ones, little gestures, feeling deeply, all of it.
girls.... pleaseeeee pick the gentle one. the kind one. the one who brings you peace. the protective one. the one who is sure of you. the one who respects you. the one who understands your silence.