There was something in the air that night, the stars were bright, Fernando.
I can not spend one more day putting in my time at a store that plays brokenhearted songs of the 80s-90s nonstop for hours on end. Why does Michaels -of all places- do this? It's cruel! Ninety nine percent of our customers are jaded women, ranging from middle-aged divorcees to widowed elderly women, who have nothing left but cross stitching. Maybe they figure the more clinically depressed they make their customers, the more crafts they will buy. I hate work right now. I hate this rut. I hate inadequacy. I hate that I know exactly how to fix everything, and yet the power lies far from my hands. No more riddles and made-you-looks. No more knowing what's right without acting. No more super depressing saxophone music! For the sake of fucking humanity!