but until we die, we just grow old.
my life has turned into a routine.
not a horrible one, but just routine enough to bug me. I sleep in later than I ever have in my life (even puberty) and make breakfast for myself around one. I do whatever it is that needs to be done for the day, or don't do it, depending on how much I suck, and then start getting ready for work. I take shower. Do my make-up exactly the same. Dress myself in office-friendly apparel and walk to work. I getting dangerously used to wearing heals.* I work until 11 or whenever we close, drink a little too much and go home. I eat a small/late dinner/snack and around one or so, crack my window and smoke a cigarette in corner of my apartment like an old lady because it is so freaking cold old and I don't have much else to do. Eventually I fall asleep, wake up too late and start it all over again.
*I have never been a fan of heals on shoes. Yes, they are sexy. And the right pair of shoes could probably make me excited in the panties. But like the little feminist I am, I can't help but be frustrated by the beauty and fashion standards. You could kill someone with a pair of the hottest stilettos or just trip and kill yourself. They are painful, pointless and slightly remind me of Asian foot binding of women. But if you want to look professional as a woman, Doc Martins won't cut it. And who am I to bitch? I wear a pair of heals to work everyday...but maybe that's because I think the click click noises help me sound more in charge. haha.
not a horrible one, but just routine enough to bug me. I sleep in later than I ever have in my life (even puberty) and make breakfast for myself around one. I do whatever it is that needs to be done for the day, or don't do it, depending on how much I suck, and then start getting ready for work. I take shower. Do my make-up exactly the same. Dress myself in office-friendly apparel and walk to work. I getting dangerously used to wearing heals.* I work until 11 or whenever we close, drink a little too much and go home. I eat a small/late dinner/snack and around one or so, crack my window and smoke a cigarette in corner of my apartment like an old lady because it is so freaking cold old and I don't have much else to do. Eventually I fall asleep, wake up too late and start it all over again.
*I have never been a fan of heals on shoes. Yes, they are sexy. And the right pair of shoes could probably make me excited in the panties. But like the little feminist I am, I can't help but be frustrated by the beauty and fashion standards. You could kill someone with a pair of the hottest stilettos or just trip and kill yourself. They are painful, pointless and slightly remind me of Asian foot binding of women. But if you want to look professional as a woman, Doc Martins won't cut it. And who am I to bitch? I wear a pair of heals to work everyday...but maybe that's because I think the click click noises help me sound more in charge. haha.