werd.

So I'm covering the reception desk and felt the need to type. You'd think I'd do something productive being that all time sheets were due YESTERDAY! SMH! I only have one left. Anywho, I'm in the mood for a sex on the beach, a newport, a back rub, some slow jams, and a nice view. But no. I'm here. It's raining, and I need a pedicure. A french one. I feel the urge to talk about shit that's going on right now in my life, but nah... I'm good. I'll let it be. Sh*t is just weird right now. Too weird. Who knows I might blog about it later, but honestly right now, idk. I'll leave it alone. Also I don't like covering for the afternoon receptionist. It might sound mean and all, but she's up there in age, and every time I sit in the chair, it's mad hot. All I picture is her farting up on this sh*t mad times. Don't laugh, 'cause it's not funny.

k she' s back.

e.