Dear god I have problems. Impulse control problems.
Fancy underwear-store, moving sale, pretty pretty robe, soft, jersey fabric, midnight blue, set down from 70 euro to 20... Pretty pretty pretty want!! So... I bought... and my account now says 1 euro.... and my next paycheck is in ten days.... Bah. I'm never going to survive on my own. I need a rich husband. Preferably with six-pack abs and a personality. And with a faithful streak in him.
I'm talking a little back and forth with KP on facebook, but it's not headed in dangerous directions yet, that is to say, no heavy sexual innuendos at present time. I'm not sure if that's disappointing or not. On one hand I could fall in love with him again, and he can do his whole asshole-but-it's-not-my-fault-I-have-Issues-routine, but on the other hand, ANIMAL FUCKING MAGNETISME!! Raowr.
My diet also died a bit today, when I went to get breakfast, and I knew the waiter, and so she gave me free brownies... woo! But a big diet boo... since it's the only food except for canned beans and tomatoes and broccoli I'll be able to afford for a while though, I expect I can be exused.
PS. I love my flat. It owns monkey-balls.
Ingen kommentarer:
Legg inn en kommentar