Maybe Because It's A Random Wednesday In June...
It feels like a good time to rearrange the skeletons.
Y’all know I like to keep all my skeletons arranged neatly, lest their crazy ass clacking keep me awake.
Somewhere between my sheet sets and luggage I never use, you’ll find that’s where I’ve arranged femurs and tibias, just hanging loose, waiting for me to give them the go ahead.
They’re waiting for their moment in the spotlight.
I feel like throwing some bones today. Just digging through, turning them over and furrowing my brow, moving on to the next one. I can’t seem to find the one that fits.
I’m all sort of in my feelings. It’s what happens when my today is complete fuckery. I try to bust down the algebraic equations on the whiteboard to see if I can get to the root cause of the fucking problem.
It’s been a month of high points for my career, and some dive ass joints for my personal life. Yes, I fucking know, that’s the usual score when we add it all up, but for some reason I thought it might be different.
I don’t know what I was fucking thinking either. That was completely baseless and inane. Next time just tape a sign to the glass.
I feel like I have been disappointed by everyone I know in my actual life. Every single person of late has just been a complete flake and Bozo, and I’m pretty fucking disgusted with them.
I think I’m coming up on a personal cull. I can feel it. There’s entirely too much headspace being loaned out for people who don’t deserve that sort of view.
I tell women all the time that you never have to question the actions of a man who cares for you. He’ll show you.
I also like to say that you should never let a man tell you he doesn’t want you twice.
I’m out here like fucking Inspector Gadget though, just go go Gadget calculator, trying to add up the dumb ass shit these people in my life are really trying to get away with.
I’m sitting here with my Bitchface on, just completely fucking sick of The Dumb Shit.
This is not the time for all that. I’m not even remotely entertained and I really am getting scary close to just striking the match and watching everything burn to the fucking ground.
I’ve reimplemented the fuck around and find out policy, effective today. All too often, I sit around holding the stories of people who don’t deserve my loyalty in the slightest, when really it would be best just to call them something funny, drop a joke or two, and forget they ever existed.
Let me go try to stack these bones two-high, and see if that helps. Otherwise, whatever doesn’t fit, well, it just going to have to saunter right on out of the closet, huh?
You keep your skeletons in a closet and I shove them deep inside. The only problem with that is, if I get angry enough, I let a femur fly. You are heard and loved, sis
Cut ‘em loose. You won’t be sorry.