(no subject)
So, 12 years ago I worked at a flower shop whose owner was very old.
As such, she didn't know what my costume was.
This meant I got to knock on door with a can that was topped with a plastic finger and smile and tell people I'd brought them flowers.
Also, I was so fucking poor, which meant I was so fucking thin.
I hate you, 1995 me.
As such, she didn't know what my costume was.
This meant I got to knock on door with a can that was topped with a plastic finger and smile and tell people I'd brought them flowers.
Also, I was so fucking poor, which meant I was so fucking thin.
I hate you, 1995 me.