Squish me, already...
All I do is work. Is Easter over yet? I worked four double shifts in a row. I have to close again tonight. I'm sick... not seriously so... just that dizzy thing acting up. Won't stop me from being super-server. I love how I covered seven shifts that weren't mine last week, but no one will close for me tonight. That's cool. I'll just pass out while I'm carrying a full rack of ribs.
Starting May 8 I will work full time at a kitchen store from 10-5 every day, and still serve at wishbones from 5:30 on. I will get out of this town even if I have to work myself to death to do it. I graduate on the seventh at 10AM. I'm looking forward to seeing you.
I need people. People need to come back to boone and play with me. I need some serious play time. And I'm really whiny. Cole and Krys visited me at work yesterday and it was lovely. And then Alex and Gloria visited me while I was closing and it was lovely. You should visit me tonight... I can get you free breaddddddd... Baxter has video cameras up so only one roll per person. We mustn't over-serve the 18 cent rolls. Oh no... we mustn't do that...
I'm on serious people withdrawal. If you're a people, I need you.
I am not even making any sense. I stopped making sense on Sunday. I think I'm holding out well, considering. I feel like The Fly. Except I haven't committed any teleportation experiments. And there's no Vincent Price. and The Fly is a movie. Squish me.
Mayyyyybeeeee I'll have a school bus full of entrepreneurs. They'll take one look at me and say, "Let's just skip a step and tip her a million dollars because she's sooooo pretty" and all they'll order will be onion tanglers and they'll share (no one ever shares) and I'll get to quit and take my million dollars and move out of boone. Or maybe there will be an unfortunate tea flood or something and I won't have to work tonight! But... um... they'll pay me anyway?
I get asked out a lot. Apparently, when I'm not single, I'm a hot commodity.
And I got asked out by a seven year old yesterday. That was incredibly cute. He asked me to a movie, and I told him I had to work. Then he asked me if I wanted to go swimming the next day... and I told him I still had to work. Poor kid. I injured his psyche. He'll survive. And don't even get me started on what happened Saturday night. I should really tell Steffi first.
~Lauren
Starting May 8 I will work full time at a kitchen store from 10-5 every day, and still serve at wishbones from 5:30 on. I will get out of this town even if I have to work myself to death to do it. I graduate on the seventh at 10AM. I'm looking forward to seeing you.
I need people. People need to come back to boone and play with me. I need some serious play time. And I'm really whiny. Cole and Krys visited me at work yesterday and it was lovely. And then Alex and Gloria visited me while I was closing and it was lovely. You should visit me tonight... I can get you free breaddddddd... Baxter has video cameras up so only one roll per person. We mustn't over-serve the 18 cent rolls. Oh no... we mustn't do that...
I'm on serious people withdrawal. If you're a people, I need you.
I am not even making any sense. I stopped making sense on Sunday. I think I'm holding out well, considering. I feel like The Fly. Except I haven't committed any teleportation experiments. And there's no Vincent Price. and The Fly is a movie. Squish me.
Mayyyyybeeeee I'll have a school bus full of entrepreneurs. They'll take one look at me and say, "Let's just skip a step and tip her a million dollars because she's sooooo pretty" and all they'll order will be onion tanglers and they'll share (no one ever shares) and I'll get to quit and take my million dollars and move out of boone. Or maybe there will be an unfortunate tea flood or something and I won't have to work tonight! But... um... they'll pay me anyway?
I get asked out a lot. Apparently, when I'm not single, I'm a hot commodity.
And I got asked out by a seven year old yesterday. That was incredibly cute. He asked me to a movie, and I told him I had to work. Then he asked me if I wanted to go swimming the next day... and I told him I still had to work. Poor kid. I injured his psyche. He'll survive. And don't even get me started on what happened Saturday night. I should really tell Steffi first.
~Lauren