i did not win the prize today
UGH GUYS. Becca is HOME. At her HOUSE. Where I am NOT. And she is not HERE.
It is a cruel adjustment.
After Becca left, I meant to either work on fic, write my dinosaur soap opera, write up this weekend properly (guys, seriously, once you know about cardigan!Owen your lives will be ENRICHED. Also, the Torchwood rule book, which I somehow forgot about. PC Andy can't write rules until he's fucked an alien.). Instead, I did laundry and read badfic. So, whatever.
BUT THEN I WENT TO WORK AND IT WAS IN THE TOP FIVE SHITTIEST SHIFTS EVER. CHRIST.
Dear Parents,
I am not your babysitter. I am not your fucking maid. It is not "cute" for your kid to take down every book with Elmo on the cover and put them all over the floor. It is not "funny" when your kid jumps up and down on the structurally unsound benches. Tables are for sitting AT, not sitting ON. And when your kid knocks over a stack of books taller than he is, the correct response is NOT to grab his hand and run away as quickly and faux-casually as possible.
I HATE ALL OF YOU. EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER SHOPPED IN A FUCKING BOOKSTORE. WHY DO YOU TORMENT ME SO?
No love,
Kaitlyn
***
Um. Sorry about that.
This Suzanne Vega song has been haunting me for about a week. You should listen to it.
you are the jester of this courtyard
with a smile like a girl's
distracted by the women
with the dimples and the curls
by the pretty and the mischievous
by the timid and the blessed
by the blowing skirts of ladies
who promise to gather you to their breast
Suzanne Vega - Gypsy
It is a cruel adjustment.
After Becca left, I meant to either work on fic, write my dinosaur soap opera, write up this weekend properly (guys, seriously, once you know about cardigan!Owen your lives will be ENRICHED. Also, the Torchwood rule book, which I somehow forgot about. PC Andy can't write rules until he's fucked an alien.). Instead, I did laundry and read badfic. So, whatever.
BUT THEN I WENT TO WORK AND IT WAS IN THE TOP FIVE SHITTIEST SHIFTS EVER. CHRIST.
Dear Parents,
I am not your babysitter. I am not your fucking maid. It is not "cute" for your kid to take down every book with Elmo on the cover and put them all over the floor. It is not "funny" when your kid jumps up and down on the structurally unsound benches. Tables are for sitting AT, not sitting ON. And when your kid knocks over a stack of books taller than he is, the correct response is NOT to grab his hand and run away as quickly and faux-casually as possible.
I HATE ALL OF YOU. EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER SHOPPED IN A FUCKING BOOKSTORE. WHY DO YOU TORMENT ME SO?
No love,
Kaitlyn
***
Um. Sorry about that.
This Suzanne Vega song has been haunting me for about a week. You should listen to it.
you are the jester of this courtyard
with a smile like a girl's
distracted by the women
with the dimples and the curls
by the pretty and the mischievous
by the timid and the blessed
by the blowing skirts of ladies
who promise to gather you to their breast
Suzanne Vega - Gypsy