Ow, my ovaries..
First, a hoorah for not being pregnant. The one good thing bleeding from the crotch provides. It is endlessly good to be twenty-two and unattatched to something that requires so much responsibility.
Second, the fuckers put chocolate in the office again. I'm not sure if other women do this, but I'd put money that they, too, eat when they are bored. And my job is nothing but eight hours of boredom. Damn it.
And then the rest is just bullshit.
Whitney and I have a little over three months left on our lease. We're going to have to figure out what we want to do by the end of next month. Depending on if the building gets bought to someone who hikes the rent, or it just gets silly to stay where we are, we might move. Ooooh.
Commuting blows, by the way. In case you never knew that. Larissa, I still have no idea how you and Josh do that every single morning.





