Monday, November 18, 2002

"Why is everyone so hot for this girl? Has she got beer-flavored nipples?"

I've given myself a time limit.
If nothing "happens" by the end of the year, then it's over.
The end.
Move on.

That gives me about 40 days.

If all goes well, that's cool.
If not, I can start the new year with a fresh start.


Work is a pain the ass.
I'm seriously considering quitting.


"It draws near. I can feel it."
This is gonna be a bad week.

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