Working ten-hour days without taking a lunch is maddening. I feel like I could chop down a tree with only one swing of an axe. You better believe that a piñata would get fucked up. I'm certain the paper mâché would bend through time and a fine dust of chocolate would blanket the ground.

Anyway, where was I? So I've been super-bitter at work and peeling back the skin on my thumbs. It's an embarrassing and nasty habit, I know, and I really try to not do it, but all it takes is one depressingly awful day at work and it's pickpickpick. If I see or feel one little flake of unevenness. One speck of dry skin, forget about it. Consider those thumbs a-bleedin'. The point is that index fingers should never be trusted. Neither should ring fingers and pinkies. Middle fingers, you're okay in my book.

Anyway, where was I? Right. I 've been in a crabby mood. This new lady I work with is just awful. When she's not busy being wrong, she's busy being a hypocrite. She has nothing to look forward to in life but new quilted Bible covers and the eventual adult diaper. She and I do not get along, and she just may be the straw that breaks the camel's back.

P.S. I'm the camel.
With bloody hooves.
Eating choco-grass.

I'm not even going to fake that I am okay with doing tasks for money. God, I can't wait until I can go to my second job. My second job is not working.