(no subject)
hello livejournal, old friend,
i can tell my sorrows to you.
lola chewed the couch today. i have no idea what her problem was, but i knew my dad was going to fuss at me for it.
the gomillies brought home a kitten, and it isn't in good shape. he's very lethargic, starving, and full of worms. he is eating, but his stomach is so swollen that his lil legs are bowing out.
you better believe that has been breaking my heart all day.
we wanted to get out of the house on my only day off this week. thinking the dreary weather scared off the tourists off, travis, alex and i headed to bush gardens. on the way there, i passed the fuck out and laid down in the backseat of alex's car.
so travis is driving, heading south on livingston. i'm in and out, half-listening to their conversation. travis is grumbling I Hate It When People Ride Your Tail...
then BAM
i fly off the seat, and the seat belt i was so lawfully wearing was the one thing stopping me from flying through the windshield.
another BAM. i hurl backwards into the seat again.
i feel like i have been punched in the stomach. travis starts chanting I Knew It I Knew It.
we were rear ended at ramming speed (that's what she said) and while we were at a dead stop, we nudged the car in front of us. the crack whore who hit us (not libelous, actual fact. get to that later) drives her truck to the side and starts asking if everyone is alright. an older woman scampers out of the passenger seat of the car in front of us, cigarette in hand screaming at the crack whore You Almost Fucking Killed My Husband.
the crack whore looks at us sheepishly and asks Can We Just Exchange Info? I Have To Pick Up My Kid From School. travis uses his authoritative voice and says No Way The Cops Are On Their Way.
within a matter of seconds the coppers and fire truck arrive. the older couple in the car in front of us are starting to moan in pain very loudly, despite their casual inspection of their car a few seconds ago. I Cant Move. My Neck Hurts. You Gave Me Whiplash.
the crack whore pulls out her second line of defense: I Was Rear Ended By A Maroon Sedan! Did You See Him Run The Red Light?! nope. i call bullshit. the police don't buy it. the paramedics are now placing the older couple on stretchers. again, i call bullshit even though it doesn't much affect our situation.
i'm debating on going to the hospital. i have a huge red mark from the fucking seat belt, but i don't seem to be bleeding into my organs. my muscles are suddenly very very sore. the dyky firewoman carefully pushes my organs, no sharp pains. more dull and constant. the only description i can use is i felt like i was punched in the stomach. Puffiness Or Sharp Constant Pain, Blood In Your Urine Or Stools, Head Straight To The E.R. i sign her waiver saying that i am refusing to be escorting to the hospital.
the crack whore doesn't have her insurance. travis retrieves her policy number, which comes back as fake. the policeman took us aside and told us point blank She Is A Street Walker, I Know Her, She Comes In All The Time, But She's Trying To Come Clean.
we drive back to the gomillies. my torso only feels correct if i am sitting completely straight. to my surprise, eating helps. travis drives me home, and while i am holding the kitten i start to bawl. he is so little and never hurt anyone. travis is flabbergasted and simply puts his hand on my shoulder. that will do for now. i am lucky to have survive today with him by my side.
i show my dad the little thing, and he prays for it and feeds it. the hole in the couch goes unaccounted for. We Needed New Furniture Anyway...
i want to take a bath and finish my amy tan novel, but i left that shit at travis's house. working a 7 hour shift tomorrow. fml
i can tell my sorrows to you.
lola chewed the couch today. i have no idea what her problem was, but i knew my dad was going to fuss at me for it.
the gomillies brought home a kitten, and it isn't in good shape. he's very lethargic, starving, and full of worms. he is eating, but his stomach is so swollen that his lil legs are bowing out.
you better believe that has been breaking my heart all day.
we wanted to get out of the house on my only day off this week. thinking the dreary weather scared off the tourists off, travis, alex and i headed to bush gardens. on the way there, i passed the fuck out and laid down in the backseat of alex's car.
so travis is driving, heading south on livingston. i'm in and out, half-listening to their conversation. travis is grumbling I Hate It When People Ride Your Tail...
then BAM
i fly off the seat, and the seat belt i was so lawfully wearing was the one thing stopping me from flying through the windshield.
another BAM. i hurl backwards into the seat again.
i feel like i have been punched in the stomach. travis starts chanting I Knew It I Knew It.
we were rear ended at ramming speed (that's what she said) and while we were at a dead stop, we nudged the car in front of us. the crack whore who hit us (not libelous, actual fact. get to that later) drives her truck to the side and starts asking if everyone is alright. an older woman scampers out of the passenger seat of the car in front of us, cigarette in hand screaming at the crack whore You Almost Fucking Killed My Husband.
the crack whore looks at us sheepishly and asks Can We Just Exchange Info? I Have To Pick Up My Kid From School. travis uses his authoritative voice and says No Way The Cops Are On Their Way.
within a matter of seconds the coppers and fire truck arrive. the older couple in the car in front of us are starting to moan in pain very loudly, despite their casual inspection of their car a few seconds ago. I Cant Move. My Neck Hurts. You Gave Me Whiplash.
the crack whore pulls out her second line of defense: I Was Rear Ended By A Maroon Sedan! Did You See Him Run The Red Light?! nope. i call bullshit. the police don't buy it. the paramedics are now placing the older couple on stretchers. again, i call bullshit even though it doesn't much affect our situation.
i'm debating on going to the hospital. i have a huge red mark from the fucking seat belt, but i don't seem to be bleeding into my organs. my muscles are suddenly very very sore. the dyky firewoman carefully pushes my organs, no sharp pains. more dull and constant. the only description i can use is i felt like i was punched in the stomach. Puffiness Or Sharp Constant Pain, Blood In Your Urine Or Stools, Head Straight To The E.R. i sign her waiver saying that i am refusing to be escorting to the hospital.
the crack whore doesn't have her insurance. travis retrieves her policy number, which comes back as fake. the policeman took us aside and told us point blank She Is A Street Walker, I Know Her, She Comes In All The Time, But She's Trying To Come Clean.
we drive back to the gomillies. my torso only feels correct if i am sitting completely straight. to my surprise, eating helps. travis drives me home, and while i am holding the kitten i start to bawl. he is so little and never hurt anyone. travis is flabbergasted and simply puts his hand on my shoulder. that will do for now. i am lucky to have survive today with him by my side.
i show my dad the little thing, and he prays for it and feeds it. the hole in the couch goes unaccounted for. We Needed New Furniture Anyway...
i want to take a bath and finish my amy tan novel, but i left that shit at travis's house. working a 7 hour shift tomorrow. fml