No good deed goes unpunished, like when you stay home for a week after a rabble rousing night of free booze and public urination. I lost my ID- a gut wrenching reality made painfully clear after trying to buy a pack of smokes.
Whenever I lose something I usually imagine it sitting in its hidden crevice, laughing at my frustration. It really doesn't help that I look twelve, but it's not my fault that "black don't crack". I can probably pass off an expired back up until it turns up, if it ever does.
I've looked everywhere and I really don't want to re-trash my room for it but I may have to.
There is also the nagging feeling that:
I will never work in this town again, and to a workaholic that really is just not an option.
That all my blatant promotion is really just going by the way side- if blogupp can't help me, who can?
I am getting older by the second and will soon be the lezzie version of a cougar.
can you say suck?
Sunday, August 2, 2009
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