My day so far

5:00AM- Wakes up

5:20AM- Heads out for jog.

5:45AM- Comes back from jog realising I still feel sick.

6:00AM- Takes shower and veges out on couch watching West Wing and dozing.

11:00AM- Arrives at work. Finds out all our computers are down and we’ve got to run the whole show with notepad receipts and how they used to run credit cards with those swipey swipe machine things.

1:30PM- After having fun kicking it old school for a bit, gets kicked out from work for being sick. Goes home and watches more West Wing on couch.

4:45- Arrives at work for second shift.

4:50PM- Gets kicked out of work. Goes to the grocery store and heads home to watch more West Wing.

And here I am so yeah that was fun although I spent way too much money on cabs today thanks to being too sick-tired to walk but ah well fuck it. West Wing is awesome.

I went for a short run this morning and I have no regrets because it felt good but also now I need to take a three hour nap before work because turns out cardio is a good way to discover you’re still sicker than you thought so byyyyyeeee. Bwaha.

notenoughtosurvive:

unamusedsloth:

Nude Portraits series by photographer Trevor Christensen

This is my new favorite thing

(via notthemoon)

God damn, I’d forgotten how great working out feels. It makes me want to do it ALL the time. But that’s not feasible or healthy and I’d probably lose interest in that really quickly if I actually tried it but working out still feels good damn. I didn’t realise how much I missed it until now.

Kitty kisses.
I began to get sick yesterday morning, which is bad because this weekend is labour day weekend, the busiest weekend of the year at work. I was supposed to go out last night but I had lunch with my dad who likes to bring up my life choices when we get together, future and past, so instead I cancelled my plans and went home to sleep off feeling like shit both physically and mentally. So today I got up after seventeen hours of sleep feeling seventy-five percent better and continued watching West Wing. West Wing is awesome. I’m starting to feel better about how I live my life now that my dad’s judgement is far away and I have a few weeks before I have to see him again. He’s not a bad guy but his opinions differ from mine and the thing I find about certain people (both on here and in real life) is that they can be nice people with bad opinions, but trying to even talk about the reasoning behind those opinions leads to absolutely nothing. Nothing except their unwavering belief that they’re right and you should stop talking about them like they’re not.
Obviously working out this morning didn’t happen but that’s a good thing because if I hadn’t gotten over being sick before tomorrow my bosses might have killed me. At least maimed me. But I’ll do a small one this afternoon and go for the morning one tomorrow morning.
I’m glad you people aren’t too interested in how I live my life because I don’t think I could handle being one of those blogs who gets ten unsolicited opinion messages per day.
I think all I really need right now is to go clothing shopping because I seriously need new clothes. But not today, obviously, because today I’m staying home and making fer damn sure I’m not sick this weekend. Sicky, sicky, go away.
Kitty kisses!

Kitty kisses.

I began to get sick yesterday morning, which is bad because this weekend is labour day weekend, the busiest weekend of the year at work. I was supposed to go out last night but I had lunch with my dad who likes to bring up my life choices when we get together, future and past, so instead I cancelled my plans and went home to sleep off feeling like shit both physically and mentally. So today I got up after seventeen hours of sleep feeling seventy-five percent better and continued watching West Wing. West Wing is awesome. I’m starting to feel better about how I live my life now that my dad’s judgement is far away and I have a few weeks before I have to see him again. He’s not a bad guy but his opinions differ from mine and the thing I find about certain people (both on here and in real life) is that they can be nice people with bad opinions, but trying to even talk about the reasoning behind those opinions leads to absolutely nothing. Nothing except their unwavering belief that they’re right and you should stop talking about them like they’re not.

Obviously working out this morning didn’t happen but that’s a good thing because if I hadn’t gotten over being sick before tomorrow my bosses might have killed me. At least maimed me. But I’ll do a small one this afternoon and go for the morning one tomorrow morning.

I’m glad you people aren’t too interested in how I live my life because I don’t think I could handle being one of those blogs who gets ten unsolicited opinion messages per day.

I think all I really need right now is to go clothing shopping because I seriously need new clothes. But not today, obviously, because today I’m staying home and making fer damn sure I’m not sick this weekend. Sicky, sicky, go away.

Kitty kisses!

I’m trying to develop a regular workout routine.

I’m trying to develop a regular workout routine.

I’ve never felt as amazing as when I, my coworker, and my new Irish friend told this obnoxious guy to fuck off tonight. He came around us with his sweaty pits around my friend and kept trying to hit on us.

Why do drunk guys always assume women have low self-esteem? Like, NEWSFLASH! We don’t. You’re not our hero. You’re annoying. For ex:

The thing about this guy is that he thought calling us beautiful mattered. When he had his arm around my coworker and she immediately told him to take his arm off her, his reaction was to say, “Aww, come on; you ladies are beautiful!” as though us rejecting him negated that fact. No. We started laughing at him. So he switched corners (we were three girls, so he came between me and coworker this time, hence switching corners). Then he tried his game again, telling us it was his “nineteenth birthday” and that “we were beautiful ladies who deserved a good night”. My coworker told him she was old enough to be his mother. “That’s totally fine,” he said. We laughed at him again. But I took pity on him (sadly) and decided to be straightforward. “Listen, we’re not interested. We’re here having a nice conversation. So let us alone and go enjoy your night like you should.” I thought my candidness was nice enough, more than he deserved at this point. His response?

"Awww, you don’t need to feel that way. You girls are so beautiful!”

Need. Need. Beautiful enough to not NEED to feel that way.Seriously? At that point, I was like naahhhhhhhh. This little shit is done. “Yes. I know I’m beautiful. We’re still not interested. Now go away,” was all I said, confidence intact and beaming.

He kept trying for a few minutes, and I (and my two other wondergirls) kept telling him, yes, we know we’re beautiful, and, no, it doesn’t actually have anything to do with you, so at this point fuck off and leave us in our awesomeness. Shitface-whom-we-tried-to-be-polite-with-at-first-but-fuck-your-entitlement.

Anyway, he sorta left for two minutes before coming back to tell us that “we had our panties stuck too far up between our legs” and managing to call us “bitches” before his friends pulled him out the bar door with horrified looks on their faces.

I don’t think any of us has ever laughed so hard in our lives. It was the best.

It just goes to show how entitled and self-important men feel when it comes to women. We don’t need them to feel beautiful and have a good time (and that bothers them). And I think I fell a little bit in love with these two women companions I had after tonight’s experience.

They turned what could have been a really insulting moment into a really awesome and empowering one. ‘Cause we’re awesome and fun. Awesome. And fun. And havin’ nunya controlling misogynistic shit, boys.