But then it occurred to me that if someone were to find the shit I spew here or anywhere else riveting enough to read all of it, well. That's a good thing, right? That means I'm interesting? Or at least a guilty pleasure, if they find me disgusting. And I think I'm okay with either one, because I enjoy both kinds of interesting.
I bought a car yesterday. Suffered heat stroke from being out in a car lot for an hour. The bathrooms are completely infested with ants, so I've been squirting them with Windex off and on all afternoon.
Things are good, overall. I'm hoping that a car payment will make me appreciate my job a little more, and will make me want to work harder. Now I have something to work for.
Suddenly I feel like an adult. I'm almost 24, so it's about damn time.