My lockscreen is these dumb stupid Prema boys Selfie is from Thorpe Park adventure where I am disgusting and sweaty but I think my hair looks dope as shit Also I am a hoe for Zayn and I don’t have spotify because I am a hipster and refuse to pay for dat shit
everyone, could you please take a moment to give all your love and attention to my tiny precious strawbabies which I have grown myself and love so dearly? they are very important to me and deserve your adoration.
Last night at work was hellish in pretty much every way that should have been entirely predictable for the Friday night of Ultimate Hell Week. Busy. Hot. Relentless. Filled with a billion small ways to slightly injure myself and so continue my accidental war of attrition against my own body.
One more day though. Today, for which I’ll be leaving soon.
But just as I’m saving my strength and honestly nearing the point of total social and physical exhaustion, it turns out my paternal grandparents are coming over. Northern low-key racist and conservative gossip-loving judgement-passing bland-food-and-smalltalk-loving excess-and-fun-hating working class puritanical killjoys. They’re staying with us til Tuesday, and today they’re coming to the bar, so not even at work can I be free from this rustling of jimmies.