It has been brought to my attention that I am slightly too picky when it comes to dating. "Just because he wears black socks with white sneakers, Annie..." and so on. I see this not as pickiness, but as selectivity. Plus, I am just too lazy (emotionally, physically) to date. Evan says that Fred made me jaded, but I disagree. The way I look at it, if you're always dating someone, you lose a sense of who you are. Your identity becomes wrapped up in the relationship. So that is why the men in my life are two cats. Spinsterhood, I embrace thee.
During the last two weeks, I have been cursing my breasts just for existing, which is ridiculous. After years of longing for some sort of frontal curvature, they're finally here. And what do I do? Daydream about them leaving. Normally I like The Twins just fine, but the hot weather has encouraged me to wear tank tops (and sunscreen, always sunscreen). Tank tops are great because they keep the ol' bo-day cool, but all of these asshole men on the way to work stare at my chest. I hate it.
As Jaime is ready to go now, I must do the same; he's giving me a ride home from work. I cried at work today, which is something I feel like doing nine days out of ten anyway.
During the last two weeks, I have been cursing my breasts just for existing, which is ridiculous. After years of longing for some sort of frontal curvature, they're finally here. And what do I do? Daydream about them leaving. Normally I like The Twins just fine, but the hot weather has encouraged me to wear tank tops (and sunscreen, always sunscreen). Tank tops are great because they keep the ol' bo-day cool, but all of these asshole men on the way to work stare at my chest. I hate it.
As Jaime is ready to go now, I must do the same; he's giving me a ride home from work. I cried at work today, which is something I feel like doing nine days out of ten anyway.
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