| 10:12 PM |
Work. |
I like working. I don't always like waking up early and commuting and the other lame stuff that goes along with working, but I like going out and being busy-ish. It makes me feel less like a human terd and more like a regular human.
But here's the problem: I can't complain about them on the internet without the fear of being in trouble by the internet. No facebooking about how ______ they are, or writing on here about all the _____ _____ stuff they do. Because what if they read it? You see the dilemma? Boo. What's the point of having a complaining blog if I can't complain about everyone I know on it?! Stupid work, ruining everything.
I guess I would be in the same situation about friend complaints, but I don't see any of them often enough to form valid complaints about them. Because of work. I really do have friends, I swear. Probably.
But here's the problem: I can't complain about them on the internet without the fear of being in trouble by the internet. No facebooking about how ______ they are, or writing on here about all the _____ _____ stuff they do. Because what if they read it? You see the dilemma? Boo. What's the point of having a complaining blog if I can't complain about everyone I know on it?! Stupid work, ruining everything.
I guess I would be in the same situation about friend complaints, but I don't see any of them often enough to form valid complaints about them. Because of work. I really do have friends, I swear. Probably.