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As I approach a week in which my job will keep me shelving books and siting at a desk for 36 hours ( even though I'm only part time and should be working just about 20) I sit and see in sharp relief that I am not what I once wanted to be.
My job isn't horrible even thought the people there annoy me with their lase fair attitude on getting any work done. I am payed well for what little blood, sweat or tears I may shed.
It feels like I do nothing with my body of any use,
I don't express my feelings as well as I wish all though I'm doing better.
I want to twirl damn it
Even though the idea seems so frivoulous.
Expression eludes me
and so it seems my soul is in perg.
for money isn't everything
expecially not my happiness
but maybe if I save more I can make it work.....
my saved money was taken out to pay for someone elses car inssurance,
I don't even drive
Like I can afford a car,
but it may be usefull in the future
say goodbye to my
 Julianna Morte · Mon Mar 05, 2007 @ 06:45pm · 0 Comments |
The chicks keep marching till we get dem