I'm not exactly proud

that I'm going to be cutting it close, once again, when it comes to getting to work on time.

I just.. can't say that I care very much.


I know that I need to keep it together.

But, ..I just don't feel like it.


I probably shouldn't talk about it out loud, unless I want Zoloft shoved down my throat.

So I'll blog.



I just.. don't. Care. Nope.

I can't help but kill myself repeatedly in my head if I'm at work for over 6 hours at a time.

Can't do it anymore. Caged bird feeling?


Wh/ev. It'll be fine. It always is fine. I'm fine. Forevv and evv evv evv and ev? (I feel a little more hip, having written that in that way. Don't fucking judge me.)

Adios, mes amies.