I love them both so fucking hard.
THIS IS THE BEST FUCKING POST EVER
I’m so sad. The bees are in my wall. Because the outside of our house is brick, he has to go in through the dry wall to remove them. Because its inside and they’ll swarm the entire house, the guy can’t just relocate them like he wants to. I feel like a murderer. But they’ll kill me if they sting me enough, and we don’t know if the baby is allergic like I am. But I wanted them to be ok. Just not in my house. Fuck, man. Why don’t things ever work out to where I don’t feel like shit about it?
…So, there’s a behive in my bedroom wall. Yes, you read that correctly. There’s a fucking honeybee hive in my fucking bedroom wall. Now I have to go to work. Enjoy finding a beekeeper that will remove it for less than $2 G’s, husband.
This makes me think of mmmcitrusy
Exactly how I felt this morning. Thanks Dori!
Tumblr, you sexy bitch. You give me hilarious threads. You give me touching, meaningful memes. Yoy give me beautiful, mostly nude bodies. You give me art. You give me friends, love and support. Even when I drop off the face of the Earth. I swear, tumblsss, If you could give me head, you’d be fucking perfect.
So, the last couple of weeks have been busy, to say the least. Got the new job working, everybody there is awesome. I work with good people, and I’ve been adopted by them, which makes me feel loved and appreciated. I forgot how much I like working in the service industry. Despite its obvious drawbacks, the people you work with are generally fun to be around, and they have good weed.
On the home front I’ve put a hold on apartment hunting. Husband wants to try Marriage counseling, and if he’s willing to work, I’m willing to give him one final chance to salvage what we can. I don’t like lawyers and paperwork and legal processes, and I don’t want to put the kids through the stress of a divorce if we can work it out. But I have conditions and demands, now. I was entirely too nice and easy on him, before.
Being a nice person sometimes translates into being taken advantage of. That’s when my nice takes a nap and my bitch takes over. I wonder why some people just refuse to let me be nice. I don’t want to be a bitch. Stop making me be a bitch! I’d rather be fun and light and smiling awesomeness. But apparently that’s not a possibility unless you serve it with a side of don’t-fuck-with-me. *shrug* I’m still learning.