(no subject)
It feels like a good time to watch Office Space.
I swear... my life feels like this pathetic, unending cycle of Pizza Hut, Colonial, sleep. Even when I get a day off, and I wake up and take a nice long shower... I swear I must STILL smell like pizza grease and marinara sauce. It doesn't go away. No matter how much I wash my hair. It's a malicious scent that perforates everything. My purse? Pizza grease. My coat? Pizza grease. I bet my perfume has even turned itself into pizza grease. Sickening.
If I'm not in an ugly polo with black pants on, I feel out of place. Like I'm ditching work or something, or I'm going to be late.
Sigh.
I swear... my life feels like this pathetic, unending cycle of Pizza Hut, Colonial, sleep. Even when I get a day off, and I wake up and take a nice long shower... I swear I must STILL smell like pizza grease and marinara sauce. It doesn't go away. No matter how much I wash my hair. It's a malicious scent that perforates everything. My purse? Pizza grease. My coat? Pizza grease. I bet my perfume has even turned itself into pizza grease. Sickening.
If I'm not in an ugly polo with black pants on, I feel out of place. Like I'm ditching work or something, or I'm going to be late.
Sigh.