Work irritated the living fuck out of me today and I don't even know why.

I've just been pissed all the goddamn time lately.

This Is My Life, RatedLife:

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My shoulders feel bruised as if I got in a fight. I can't walk right, and my inner thighs are fucking burning.

Personal trainers are sadists, kids, never forget that.

I hate my job because it forces me to deal with stupid people who I hate which makes me hate coming to work.

Fuck, I didn't even get out to sign up for the gym today.

This is why I drink.*

*utter bullshit. Irish heritage/Canadian upbringing is why I drink.

So my mom calls me up on her way home from work. It's her last week there, and she's training a summer student to take over for the next month ( Read more... )

Since it was good enough for everyone else, leave a comment and I'll ( Read more... )

I bought a place, got the financing arranged - no mean feat, mind you. If I didn't do this for a living I wouldn't have accomplished it ( Read more... )

Since the housing prices here in Edmonchuck are getting higher than a club kid on his first hit of e, I have to go in together with my sister just to buy a fucking townhouse or half-duplex.

House hunting has already become hell, and I'm still just trying to organize LOOKING at places.

Granted, still better than renting, but reality can be a bitch

There is no reason I should be this fucking sick. I blame the Bacardi Breezers. Alcohol should not have that much sugar.

Tomato soup, don't fail me now.

I passed the Canadian Securities Course, so now I can take the Canadian Financial Planning Course, because there is NO FUCKING END TO THESE.

But I get my money back, have a couple job opportunities, and a long weekend is coming up.

Maybe I'll stop being so bitchy after tomorrow ends. Maybe.