Another ice coffee or ice tea or Gatorade? Shit I’m almost out.
There’s a sale at Victoria’s Secret, again. Really bad for my wallet but I need a new bag, shirt, pants, perfume, etc because I want it.
I haven’t planned my story app in days too busy on other websites. There’s still NOTHING new.
I’m cold I want ice cream.
Protests? Meh. I don’t care. Don’t throw rocks at my car again asshole. I’ll slap you with a lawsuit.
I sued my employer, what makes you think I won’t sue you?
I have nothing to fear the inside of my mouth. I broke my tooth and it’s decayed.
Why can’t people leave me the fuck alone and let me write in peace!?
Don’t look at me like that. Don’t look at me at all.
Face masks are stupid. This entire thing is stupid.
You remember the times it was a big deal when you went to public places with your face covered? Those days are over.
If people asked, ‘hey, did you test positive for an STD?’ every time you went in public as mush as they did COVID, well…
I’m not looking forward to going back to work.
I’m looking forward to the day I get another job.
The guy in my writing I obviously slept with. Do you need concrete details about that too?
Relationships are stupid. Marriage is stupid too. It’s a contract.
I don’t need to date assholes anymore, I live with one.
I’m emotionally unavailable because I don’t have emotions.
The only person I care about is my daughter.
Hmmm, let me think… No.
He’s hot, I’d sleep with him. Expect for the fact he’s too straight edge.
I don’t have issues in that department. I have issues in the giving a fuck department.
I think the answer is I need new sunglasses.
I need to rethink this selling on Amazon bullshit.
I don’t know what I’m planning to do with my characters in this story. I’m just writing a crime novel.
I’m not drunk. I wish I was.
I really think that much about him. I write about him sometimes. Maybe I need a therapist. Fuck that shit. I’d rather waste money other places.