(no subject)
Man, I hate being poor. You know what I'm eating right now, as part of my celebratory "yay, you survived another week at the House of Gas and you haven't been fired or even shot anybody in the face!" meal? Couscous. That's right, fucking couscous. No take-out pizza for Froodle, oh no, because despite working a forty hour week in the belly of the hideous beast that is customer service, she's too poor to waste a whole fiver on delicious jalapeno-laden pizza. I mean, I suppose I could console myself with the thought that staying off the junk food will ensure I look even more fabulous than ever in this cute dress I saw at Rose and Co, but oh wait! I can't afford it anyway!
Fucking couscous. Seriously.
Fucking couscous. Seriously.