one hour down. four to go.
i hate working saturdays.
especially after shitty fridays.
this job is sucking my will to live. actually, it's more like it's pulling my soul out through my nose, egyptian-mummification style, with an unsanitized hook. bring on the formaldahyde.
realized march is one tiny month away. which means i have two more paychecks with which i have to pay off my ever-growing credit card bill before the interest starts accumulating. the only way i could do this is if i didn't pay my rent and didn't eat for the rest of the month. even then, i think i'd be a little short.
F U C K.
it doesn't help when fuckhead gets mad at me for no reason at all and then sleeps on the floor.
i am So Frustrated and there's very little in the way of an out.
that, and i'm ugly: salt in an open wound.