Routine is killing my joie de vivre
I swear that I'm the only person within 100 miles of here that has one fucking iota of concern about my happiness or quality of life. I ask to go to the store today and it's no, we're busy. Hannah asks my mom to go pick up some cash for her and it's, okay, let's go to the store now because we have to go get cash for Hannah anyway. Nice, mom, thanks for that blow to my self esteem. And I put up with some really retarded shit. We're driving home, and I'm starving, and I have my own cash, and I really want a hamburger from Wendy's. I get to eat real food approximately once every 2 months. How sad is it that I eat so many Hot Pockets and shit that I consider Wendy's real food in the first place? Fucking sad. So I ask to stop at a Wendy's so I can get a hamburger and it's all, "I was going to make leftovers at home."
"I don't want leftovers, I eat leftovers and frozen stuff for nearly every meal of every day. And I really want a Big Bacon Classic."
And denied again. Apparently, it's too much fucking trouble to pull into one of the three Wendy's on the way home (including the one four blocks down the street from here) for about 2 minutes so I can get a damn burger and fries. I think that's just totally rude and inconsiderate and disrespectful, like she's treating me like I'm 6 years old. I get the distinct impression that she's thinking, "He doesn't need a hamburger." I don't need liquor either, but it sure helps my life seem less skull-splittingly tedious and unnecesary, so when I'm sick of fucking TURKEY GOD DAMN SANDWICHES then let me get my fucking BIG BACON CLASSIC, GOD DAMN!!!!!!!!!!
If I see one more turkey or ham in the next two months I'm going to binge on Drano so I can puke my fucking guts out.
It's the simple things in life that make me miserable.
"I don't want leftovers, I eat leftovers and frozen stuff for nearly every meal of every day. And I really want a Big Bacon Classic."
And denied again. Apparently, it's too much fucking trouble to pull into one of the three Wendy's on the way home (including the one four blocks down the street from here) for about 2 minutes so I can get a damn burger and fries. I think that's just totally rude and inconsiderate and disrespectful, like she's treating me like I'm 6 years old. I get the distinct impression that she's thinking, "He doesn't need a hamburger." I don't need liquor either, but it sure helps my life seem less skull-splittingly tedious and unnecesary, so when I'm sick of fucking TURKEY GOD DAMN SANDWICHES then let me get my fucking BIG BACON CLASSIC, GOD DAMN!!!!!!!!!!
If I see one more turkey or ham in the next two months I'm going to binge on Drano so I can puke my fucking guts out.
It's the simple things in life that make me miserable.