My desk is a fucking mess that desperately needs cleaned. I need to finish pages for my friend's theater group, my coffee is getting cold.
I just don't wanna write.
I have to finish updating my calendar with show dates so I can keep track of where I am going and when.
I have a meme to comment on Casey's post.
I don't wanna write.
I warmed up my coffee and now Lucy Liu is slurping her water. Loudly. I don't care. I love the shit out of that girl. She picked me. Nobody picks me.
Okay, everybody picks me but, people suck so having suck pick me is ... well, wait, lemme rethink that one.
I still don't wanna write.
My chair hurts my ass. It's a metal pole on a concrete slab trying to fit up my ass.
Five years ago today I was wondering how I was going to get this shit together. This shit being my life.
If a fucking moron like me can get his shit together and stop making a mess of his life, you can too. I promise, you absolutely can.
I. do. not. fucking. want. to. write.