putting any effort into my appearance feels insane and like time is slipping through my fingers in a manner analogous to sand, but when i'm unemployed i am going to get so hot. i'll have no excuse not to do the work of finding pants that look good on me.

stomach hurts like hell all day the only cure is to scarf down spicy curry leftovers and chili garlic naan and an aperol spritz and three twizzlers and a cookie and a big ol' cup of hot creamy joe to wash it down

basically my main problem is that i only exist in my fantasies

easy way to stop falling asleep at 8:30. be so so so scared for tomorrow you're sitting upright in bed considering making yourself throw up for hours and hours and hours.

if it sucks hit da bricks. but also can someone just tell me i'm allowed to put in my two weeks tomorrow.

stop making movies where people who live with their parents find love. it's not possible. cinemasins ding.