I just ate half a pint of Ben and Jerry's cookie dough ice cream and a decent chunk of Lindt bar, after eating a massive shrimp po' boy, half a pot of homemade split pea soup, half a bag of cheetos, and a generous helping of 16 handles fro yo earlier in the day. I am on the rampage. I have nothing left to live for. I have nothing left to look hot for. My life is over.
I can feel the insides of my thighs swelling and coming close to rub against each other in the summer heat that is encroaching upon us now that May is here. I have been applying to jobs non-stop for the past two weeks that I have been unemployed. Nannying jobs (who the f*ck would hire me to take care of their precious, BPA toddlers if they've seen the stuff I post here, am I right?! No wonder they didn't call me back).
I've applied for retail jobs, because, you know, why not continue to be someone else's bitch for the remainder of my working life? I have decided there is absolutely no way for me to be myself or creatively fulfilled on the job, unless I somehow score a job writing for TheOnion.com or Vice.com. Or, perhaps I can write books that no one will publish, because, sadly for me, my parents aren't rich and don't have connections.
It's fine though. I've been going home the past three weekends in a row, because on top of losing my job, my Grandma also has cancer. If I stay here alone (since my BF works all weekend), I will either spend money I shouldn't spend on shit I shouldn't spend it on (ex. Partying), or I will go off the fucking deep end, because, I mean really - how many jobs can I possibly find and apply for on a Saturday night?
My legs are like two hamhocks since I am officially what I ate.
My hair is really gross.
I can't find a foundation pale enough to match my skin, and the last two bare minerals ones I purchased (which for years seemed to match my natural skin perfectly), now make me look snookie orange.
I am interviewing at a shop on Monday that I cannot even afford the products of. It's like a facial / face cream place. I am sure because of my natural, and radiating beauty, they will hire me. We all know I look so hot without make up or my hair done. I'm like a fucking wildebeast. A common stock pig with ONE redeeming feature.
I am so blessed. I should probably start a can/bottle collection, or maybe I should start collecting Cardboard scraps to build a "recycled" "tiny" home for the street.
I'm fat. I'm fucking fat.
