You wear a rag around your head and you call yourself a gangsta bitch
So we're down to the last 100 hours before i have to be out of my apartment and at the last minute my plans have come all askew. I purposely never really asked for a lot of help because I can't stand the sound of my own voice whining or pleading (and I have a strong boyfriend and brother who would never make me ask). Unfortunately I wasn't able to get out of a shift at work which unravels my whole tight-ass schedule for important haps, like the fucking truck. I have NO other free time to move except tomorrow morning (while brother and BF are working) until 6PM when I have to work. Long story short, this morning I'm getting ready for the fateful shift and crying over a photo essay on Chernobyl (thanks archfatuous) when my girl Jonna calls me and offers to help me tomorrow. It's gonna be just us two girls and a bunch of heavy furniture, but I'm kind of excited.
Wish me luck.
Wish me luck.