And if it's not work, it's dental surgery.
Yes. Dental surgery.
My parents always said I was driven.
Yes. Fractured.
The proof is in the puddin'.
Actually, this x-ray means nothing to the attention deficit human eye. I definitely did the baby ultra-sound nod like, 'oh yeah, I totally see it. It's beautiful. It has your nose!'
When I'm really thinking, "whoaaa look at my skull. Sweet."
Except, it isn't sweet. It's horrible.
And like everything else in my life and in Houston, expensive.
So like then next day I get news that boyfriend probably might be
So in sum, my job is giving me stomach ulcers probably, I'm on probation, I've aged 10 years in about a week, my boyfriend is abandoning me and I'll be a spinster for life, and I'm grinding so much that I'm breaking my own bones.
AND THEN.
AND THEN AND THEN AND THEN.
A beacon of light shone upon me and on this day a child was born out of Bethlehem and they named him Jesus. Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace, good will toward men.
Wrong story.
I got an interview!
For a job!
For a very kick-ass company that won't lay off my boss because they are looooaded and don't need to lay anyone off.
Or make any anxiety-ridden employee a premature work orphan.
So, I called in sick to my current job, went to my interview, fell in love, and tried desperately to impress.
Came back to my job the next day to 300 emails in my inbox.
Blacked out, marked all as read.
Fight or flight.
So, now all hope for my life is hanging on the result of this job interview and if I don't get the job then I will ABSOLUTELY die and be in the fetal position crying under my desk.
Cheers to my luck going 8500 miles in the opposite direction.
