And it’s all about money, money money!!!
Maybe if I had enough, I might be like all of them.
I might choose to fucking share it or use it differently than on sheer vanity. But, I work with real estate agents, bankers and title companies. Apparently, to be employed or work in these fields, you must be 100% not real in any way at all.
It’s the status quo to drive a BMW or Audi or Range Rover or Mercedes and own your own, expensive home in a pretentiously glamorous neighborhood. I drive a piece of shit (no offense, Breezy), rusty, old 1997 Plymouth Breeze with almost 200,000 miles and I rent a fucking 2 -bedroom apartment with a loft.
I don’t wear makeup, pretty much ever. There will be a special occasion now and again, but it’s a pain in the ass to put on, it gets on my clothes and clogs my already-oil-saturated face pores.
My hair is very, very grey – I figure why the hell should I even try? It would cost thousand$ to continually cover up what is fighting naturally to be there!
I can’t remember the last time I paid full price for an item of clothing: thrift stores are where it’s at!
Johnny Id posted this picture Wednesday as I was writing this… It made me laugh so hard because it fit so well with my feelings 🙂 Thanks, J-Man ❤
I took a short grief quiz online a couple of weeks ago because this Loserman thing was making me nuts! I wish I could just throw the lovey-dovey, mushy-gushy feelings away — or possibly donate them to someone who needs them more than I do… But, today I feel closer to being over it than I did when I took that quiz. So, that’s something, right?
Anyway. I ramble…
The results of the quiz stated that I could be suffering from “complicated grief”.