I would like to get extremely drunk right now. I probably will, because what the hell else am I doing with my waste of a life other than be late for fucking work all the fucking time because I don't know how to listen to an alarm or manage my time properly like everyone else in the world. Honest to God, I don't know how I'm not fired yet. Maybe I am. Fuck. So it's really either shopping therapy (brokebrokebroke) or drinking. Awesome. I really, really, really miss Paris right now. (and i know what's going to happen monday morning, and what can i say? i slept through my alarm, it wasn't loud enough? i'm not looking to make excuses, but that's what it always sounds like. it's a reason not an excuse, what the fuck is this shit anyways?) ~katie