Last Thursday? Best not to go into details. But needless to say that I did indeed have... 'Hurt Feelings'.
By Friday, though, I was ready to deal with my emotions in a healthy way. That is, by the way of 'Drink'.
Saturday day was a wash, but by Saturday night (as I did later on Friday night), I remembered the anthem of the 'Single Ladies'. Sadly, nothing came of it.
I awoke on Sunday with the profound desire to do nothing more than crawl under my blankets and watch pirated videos. Truly, I did need 'Home for a Rest'.
Monday, I felt quite small and insecure, thinking how amazingly unlikely was my birth. I tried to put a cork in it when I realised I was worrying my poor coteacher sick.
On Tuesday, I just drank lots of 'Fuckin' Tea'.
But by Wednesday, the usual frustrations began to creep back into my notice. My mental monologue went much like this cat's, complete with a male British accent.
And by the this very Thursday, I decided that fuck it, I should be 'Takin' Care of Business'. So I did.
Next time, I shall be positive, oh yes I shall. You might regret this.
Ralphie gives this four paws up. As do RB and Toby.
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