I’m not really sure why I’ve become the laziest person in the world and replaced the written word with photos, but if I continue my fears are:
a. i will forget how to form complete sentences
b. people will think i am mentally challenged because i will order my food by pointing at pictures on a menu.
c. my food options will be limited to only restaurants with picture menus.
So here’s what I’m thinking…I’m gonna pull my shit together, and get back to writing nonsentical jargin about what I find hilarious, and other people likely don’t understand, or think is weird. Like woah, my coworker got paid to put pit pads in peoples clothes tonight, and I go paid to put flowers in their hair. But at least my job isn’t troubleshooting email to prevent it from going into consumers spam folders, because that, dear readers, is SOMEONE’S REAL JOB.
I may have suffered a small mental breakdown/crisis of conscious/embarassing situation involving smearing my dior mascara today, but found myself enlightened by a nice young actor, who when asked why he moved to New York, responded: “I didn’t know what else to do, I wasn’t that great at school, I wasn’t going to be an english major or a mathematician, and I liked doing this.” I proceeded to give him what he called a “badass haircut” while confessing that I spend four months listinging to the Some Nights album on repeat. He had done the same.
Later I realized a bunch of his hair had found its way into my apron. So I will proceed to make both a voodoo doll and a clone for my intern. Because, when I was but an intern, I would have expected the same.