"Man, what day is it?"
"Uh..I actually don't know. Thursday?"
"Thursday?"
"No. Wait. It's Friday. It has to be."
"Fuck."
It's getting pretty bad, I've gotta say. All I do is work and do laundry. No joke. The upside of this is that I'm getting mad paycheque, which makes me feel pretty good. The downside? No social life and a constant backache. Ehhhhh.
Going up to the lake Saturday night, kids. We've got a cabin next to the lake that just screams "ghost stories and marshmellows". I'm also fairly stoked on getting to drive the big, mean, gas-guzzlin' SUV up the mountain. I feel so very bullet-proof when I'm driving that thing. Like 50 cent minus 9 bullets. Hilarity ensues when I finally crawl out of the pimp machine and back into the bitchmobile. I don't feel like Tough Stuff McGee. I just feel...small. Sigh.
My glasses will be ready for me tomorrow. Vision will be nice, I'm sure.
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