RachCon One

I’m feeling crap today. Fluffy went back to Brighton. Turn away now Fluff, ya big’ed, if you’re reading this. I’ll really miss him, despite the fact I have to TELL HIM 50,000 TIMES A DAY TO STOP STARING AT MY TITS. But, horribly, it made me miss all of youse great big lovely friend-neglecting losers all over again. Ugh.

So that’s it. All friends at uni or Abroad and I’m officially aaaall byyyy myse-ee-elf (don’t wanna be).

And my job officially sucks. I hate posh people. The loaded types who come into the restaurant think waitress = loser. They expect me to know everything about everything on the menu, but at the same time assume I’m stupid because I’m a waitress. Imagine if you will just how HARD it is for me to stay polite when some bint with gnarledy fingers and powder in her wrinkles has a go at me for smiling at another waitress while I’m taking her order. (This really happened. Showed disrespect, apparently. I mean, fair play: I didn’t respect her. But still. Stupid cow.)

Ugh, I’m so BORED. Bored bored bored. And feeling just a bit anxious about the future. Still no uni chosen or plans for the rest of the year. Hey ho.