(yes, i'm cross posting from facebook. for posterity and shit.)
dear gob, someone take away my keys. left to my own devices i went shopping again today. thankfully (?) i'm broke and limit myself to thrift stores and extreme clearance racks. i got four more button up shirts today (i only had one) and a pair of levis (all for $30, but still) (holy shit, look at me justify this). i've been contemplating packing my hospital bag and laying out outfits to wear but i've been successful in distracting myself by making chicken broth (also, wtf? i don't do that either...)
driving away from savers today i had the oddest sensation that my chest was being swarmed by bees, or crawling with ants. before diagnosing me with schizophrenia, i'll tell you that i mean thismostly metaphorically and am not actually contemplating removing my own breasts before may 8th. but the urgency. my brain is shouting: get these fucking stretch-marked death bags OFF of us. (no i don't believe in a separate spirit but apparently draw firm lines between mind and body when having psychotic breaks.)
dear gob, someone take away my keys. left to my own devices i went shopping again today. thankfully (?) i'm broke and limit myself to thrift stores and extreme clearance racks. i got four more button up shirts today (i only had one) and a pair of levis (all for $30, but still) (holy shit, look at me justify this). i've been contemplating packing my hospital bag and laying out outfits to wear but i've been successful in distracting myself by making chicken broth (also, wtf? i don't do that either...)
driving away from savers today i had the oddest sensation that my chest was being swarmed by bees, or crawling with ants. before diagnosing me with schizophrenia, i'll tell you that i mean this