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Black is the color of my mood. And also Friday.

After a summer spent as Dr. Fucking Hostess, something in me snapped.

The long-standing retail gig I had reapplied for called as I was leaving Breadstix, Inc., and rather than risk another school break working in a hostess hellhole, I decided to sit on a retail gig one to two mornings a week during the busiest semester in recent memory. The discount on poorly made sweaters was a bonus, as without my summer to reset, I am feeling flabby and unattractive as ever.


All of this is to say that, despite the husband's first actual holiday off since starting at Wreck My Life University, we have spent Thanksgiving in the car, rather than at the table. I saw my family yesterday. I have to work Black Friday, which actually begins on Stupid Fucking Thursday. My twelve hour shift begins soon. (I want to type momentarily but my phone keeps autocorrecting monetarily. I find this amusing.)

GroupThink, I don't pray. But your good thoughts and prayers are appreciated. I am far, far too old for this shit, but it is among the things I am doing to improve the circumstances which surround my life at the moment.


I have an interview for a non-music but salariedjob on Wednesday. I have spent the trip calculating how long it would take to get debt free at various salary points. Groupthink, I sold my soul once before. It was ... An educational experience. I am resolved. Desperate. Nervous. And late for my shift.

Leave your moral support at the beep. The beep is covering my internal screaming.

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