I am one stressed girl!
I have some monetary concerns. I still have my stupid Honda Civic, even though I get a car for free via good ole Walter P. Chrysler. I am just wasting money on it each month, and it kills me! If you or someone you know is interested in a 2006 Civic with 12,000 miles, let me know! I also have HUGE amounts of student loans...this takes up most of my income...more than rent...more than my clothing/shoe budget.
I did just get a small bonus at work and a gigantic tax return, so things are a bit better. Of course, I had to go spend some of that on something ridiculous. And that something is the most heavenly pair of Chanel sunglasses. They are gorgeous! I wore them into work and one of the dumbass boys goes, "They just like your other pair!" I almost introduced my stiletto heel to his colon for that remark. Then I bough another pair of Stuarts.
Work and the dumbass boys are another source of stress. They do nothing and I work my little tuchis off. They are treated like the best thing since the antilock brakes, and I am treated like bubkis! I am sick and tired of working with a bunch of stupid, old, WASPy men. One day, I am going to snap if things don't change. And it will be bad. People won't use the expression "going Postal" anymore, they will say "going Chrysler." Well, I am exaggerating there, but a girl can only take so much crap before she cracks!
Recently I moved to the Newport Beach-Costa Mesa area. Perfect location- far from my crazy ex-landlord, close to work, close to the beach, and VERY close to South Coast! But one roommate has the most fucking annoying cat in the world! For whatever reason, the roommate will not de-claw or spay the cat. (She claims she wants the cat to be able to defend herself and experience the joy of motherhood, yet it is an indoor cat and my roommate has stated she would never want to take care of kittens...interesting.) I am allergic to cats...because I am allergic to everything. And I hate cats. So this fucking cat LOVES me! I keep my bedroom door close to keep the flea bag out, and she paces outside waiting for me to open it! When the door opens, she jets under my bed or in my closet, out of reach.
The weight I gained when I was at home in December does not want to leave. No matter what I do, I can not lose it. It is driving me IN-FUCKING-SANE!
