I'm not a model
I'm not a fashion designer
I'm not a writer.
What am I?
Wishing I didn't take the new job. Sick of being a maid. Tired of spending so much time inside the condo. It's Friday night and I'm debating between watching UFC re-runs, studying Japanese, or reading a book. Seriously in need of a life.
One more week of Freedom before I go back to work. I wasted all of August inside of this apartment. And pretty much this entire year actually. The only person who can change things is me. I don't know how though. I'm seriously considering asking for a prescription for anti-depressants. I feel like I'm losing a battle that I'm actually fighting to win.
Blah blah whatever. Isn't it obvious how meaningless my life is when I can't even find anything to blog about. Awesome.
I want a big tattoo. More on that.
ecks.
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