Welcome to the Unemployment line.

I am not sure how people can stay unemployed for so long, I am a few seconds away from devouring my own intestines out of boredom.

I am pretty sure that starting over at a new job will be the worst thing in my life. It may not be the worst thing forever but it definitely will take the top spot for the next few months.

Definitely, probably not.

Slimer with a flow.

Once you've been the "fat girl", you will always be that same fat girl. To your family, you'll be the gordita, to your friends you'll be the "you know her, she's a little *makes fat motion* bigger", there's no escaping the fat girl label.

You may lose 3000 lbs and be rail thin and you'll still be "she used to be the fat girl", but guess what? Still the same fucking fat girl.

I've lost 135 lbs since April and I've started receiving the whole OMG YOU LOOK SO GREAT! WOW! YOU LOST SO MUCH WEIGHT! SOOOO MUCH BETTER. I mean, gee thanks! Thanks for letting me know how much of a wildebeest I was before. I've gotten used to the "you have such a pretty face" backhanded comment that I'm pretty sure I've got the head of J. Law and the body of Slimer. These are the same people who tell you to have a cheat meal and just go ahead and eat "because it won't hurt!" but will be the first to mention how much better you look when you're not eating that shit.

Of course most people look better when they've lost some weight. It's automatically assumed that overweight people = unkempt, disgusting people. Guess what? I was fly as hell when I was fatter and I'm just as great at this weight.

So I'll keep my fat girl attitude and continue to always be that "fat girl" while you continue to be a cunt.

Don't mind the spaghetti sauce!

I am a grateful person, I think it's very sweet when people give me gifts and I normally appreciate them. My good heart was terribly confused and sent into convulsions yesterday as I opened a gift from the Crotch yesterday.

Are you ready? No, I honestly do not think so.



BOOM.

No, seriously. What? First of all, I am 27 years old and never in the entire year that I've worked here have I ever worn anything that would give someone the idea that I would wear this sweater. I mean, as fly as it is, I save these kinds of sweaters for my weekend rendezvous with my sugar daddies.

This was my initial shock. I opened the package and unfolded the sweater and noticed it is covered in stains. Not just normal oh shit these wouldn't come off in the wash stains but stains that were still crunchy. It's like someone wore the sweater, spilled portions of their entire meal all over and then this bitch wrapped it up. WOW! Thanks! This is the most magical gift I will ever receive. Ever.

She stood there beaming with pride that I seemed to love this beautiful sweater. As I thanked her and tried to put it away, I put my finger through a hole in the damn sweater.

Alright, let's go over the facts.
1: Pasta buffett on the sweater? Check.
2: Mouse holes in the sweater? Double Check.
3: It's a 1x, the fat girl should get it. Triple Check.

A few minutes later, she returns and says to me 'WELL! WHAT DO YOU THINK OF IT? YOU LOVE IT RIGHT? I THOUGHT IT WAS PERFECT FOR YOU! Does it fit?! If it doesn't fit, you should lose weight!!!'

Please push the pause button, you can return to MarioKart after these brief messages.

Bitch, WHAT?!

You gave me a box of chocolate covered cookies and this beautiful sweater but suggest losing weight before I wear the sweater? Are you a double agent plotting my demise? EAT EAT EAT EAT FEEL BAD LOSE WEIGHT WEAR SWEATER.

I guess I'll be the flyest looking bitch at the Christmas party.

So apparently my shirt thought it would be ok to sit on top of my ass all day, revealing my skank panties to my boss who is training me today. RIGHT BEHIND ME. I don't know why I didn't realize my ass was hanging out all day, but fuck I'm sure he'd been making some fucked up faces behind me.

In other news, I believe psychiatrist are the laziest types of doctors, yes you talk all day and give advice but really? REALLY? Why does 15 minutes of your time cost $171? Bullshit.

Also, my newest tattoo may have given me malaria or something since it seems that I am not healing, and it looks like crusty hell. I'm giving it a few more days before I decide to slice off an entire chunk of my shoulder.

That is all.
Oh and someone find me a boyfriend, this lack of boy is irritating.

Return of the croc.

And so it begins.

I feel like I have body lice, I am SO itchy. All over.

Well, that's a lie. I'm not itchy all over, I'm itchy in like 3 spots on my stomach. It's my own fault though, I'm far too forgetful to put lotion on after a shower. ITS SO MESSY. But this spot on my stomach is going to force me to pull my shirt up in front of 5 patients and rub my stomach against the spackled wall for relief.

DOES ANYONE HAVE ANYTHING THAT WILL MAKE IT STOP.

Adventures in Stank.

It seems I attract the stank.

Remember the neighbor whose breath smelled like dicks? Wellll, my new job has brought me a therapist who smells like crotch. Constantly.

I'm not sure how you can avoid smelling yourself when your scent leaves a trail of little stars behind you. I was sitting here typing away and I knew crotch was behind me, I mean how could I not? I was in close proximity and there were small alarms going off around me. I turn around to grab something off the floor and plant my face RIGHT INTO THE CROTCH.

No no no no no no. There are far too many things wrong with this entire scenario, I apologized and tried to regain my composure but that wasn't all that easy. Wrong, just wrong.


I'll have to recap the naked man's ass in the women's bathroom another day, it's all too much for one day.

No. Yes. Ok Maybe.

The problem with not really believing in anything is that sometimes, just sometimes, you get the urge to wonder about religion and God and wonder why you don't believe. I was driving by a church yesterday and something inside of me wanted to stop, go in there and sit through mass.

Then I realized I had just smoked crack.

No, really. The feeling passed as soon as I rolled through the stop sign, I'm thinking the church has a spell on anyone who drives by. A spell that makes them want to stop and confess their life and love to god, fuck that. I'll be sure to GPS my way around town now to make sure I'm not passing by those crazy ass churches anymore.

I think I'll stick to my sparkly Jesus.