Monday: Work at 5:00 am...no, that's not a typo, FIVE A.M. 920 boxes later, I pretty much wanted to die.
Tuesday: Thinking my karma would be good because I returned a lost wallet full of cash that was left behind would be wrong...some dipshit asshole stole my favorite purse from my car. My car that was in my driveway. Granted, it was empty, but that's not the point. My car was violated.
Wednesday: Work at 6:00 am...ick.
Thursday: Don't remember much. It's that lack of sleep.
Friday: Realized that not only was my favorite pursed ripped from the gut of my car, but my cd's were gone too. Seriously, all of them. I had worked hard to try to build up my collection since the last time my cd's got stolen. If there is a god, he hates me. Or karma does. Oh, and how could I forget the once again amazingly, absolutely bitchin' booty I got...ya, I have the right to brag!
Drink a couple of beers. Two pills. Repeat.
1 comment:
Yay to your new booty thanks to lifting 920 boxes.
If you were nicer to your mother, karma might be nicer to you. I kid of course. That woman drives me nuts.
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