I MAY HAVE SWORN THAT I WOULDNT SEND THEIR TEXTS TO MY MOMMY AFTER I ACCIDENTLY SENT THE SCREEN SHOTS TO THEM but I meant it... I didn't send em to mommy. Karma is scarier than mommy. Those texts die with me...
... too bad he was tall and beautiful...
... he won't believe me...
Anyone else get unreasonably anxious when too many people message you on social media? Lately my snapchat has been POPPING OFF and it's causing me so much anxiety for ZERO reason.
This never used to happen, so weird.
Lately it seems like every "I'm glad I lived to see this" moment is followed by a "what's the fucking point, then" moment
So basically what I'm trying to say is: existence can catch these fucking hands.
The elleternal struggle is trying to figure out whether I ACTUALLY want to cut all my hair off again or if I just forgot to take my fucking zoloft. Ya dig?
I never thought I'd say this but one of my bosses tried to set me up with a 40+ y/o chain-smoking conservative extremist antivaxxer alcoholic with a beer gut and a criminal record...
WHAT.
Look man, I'm not ~pleased~ that recently I was put in a situation where I had to defend myself from being physically attacked by someone close to me... but I am proud that I stood my ground and (attempted to) hit back instead of running.
Apparently I demand validation for my ability to sit through a 2 hour rib tattoo like a CHAMP. So much so that I dozed off a few times...
... is this masochism?