I was going to go back to work tomorrow but my God, what a fool's notion that was.
I give myself two hours to fix the hole in the drywall and then I am going to write and eat Christmas cookies. This is my solemn oath.
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"what have you been doing on your phone for the past two fucking hours" hitting people leave me alone
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Girl you need to get out of bed faster than this
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big fan of when grief drives characters to do fucked up things that are ultimately pointless and do more harm than good rather than just like. going to therapy
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