So, today is my last day of the best job ever. I've loved almost every moment at this job; I love the co-workers, the ability to work on classwork, the customer service... it's been great. I'm going to miss everyone. After today, I'm job-less, and I'm pretty sure this is going to be the longest time I've been without a job ever since I was old enough to work. Sure I've only had two jobs including this one, but each of these have been long-term for my age. I am more mature than people my age, I am told this all the time and that is why I get along with almost everyone I come across. So, like I said, this will be a certain heartbreak for me. Not only that, but I'm in here with my stomach in knots from fighting with my wonderful fiance.

When I was getting super-ready for my last day on the job - shower, shave, lotion, stuff, stuff, and more stuff - he came in all happy. And as soon as I asked for help putting my damn bra on, he had to explode about how I stained his f***ing underwear the other day because I got my Aunt Flo. Look, my f***ing menstrual cycle has been f***ing crazy these past couple months, don't explode because I got blood on your favorite boxers. I wasn't expecting them that day, regardless... DO YOU THINK I WANT THIS EVERY GODDAMN F***ING MONTH, OH SO DIMWITTED ONE!

As you can tell I am pissed, but, unlike SOMEONE I don't explode in person... I explode in my writing. So, if you don't want me to stain things, with me having this particular natural phenomenon, I'm just going to have my fallopian tubes tied and we can adopt, hoping I can still deal with you then. I am completely serious about this... you wouldn't have to worry about me splattering blood on your favorite boxers, I don't have to be MAJORLY unhappy for a week per month, I don't have to worry about getting freaking pregnant ever, and you will have one less thing to b**** about and make me even more pissed off with you.

Note to you: it's time to grow up. If you're such a big man, act your damn f***ing age now because I'm getting sick of babysitting and cleaning up after my childish future-husband.

You can be pissy with me when you read this later, I'm SO used to it by now. You can put your pouty face on, flap your arms, and slam things all you want... it won't make a damn difference. OR, you can do something that mature men do in their 20's and talk to me about it - WITHOUT YOUR DAMN ATTITUDE.

Anyways, this was just a way to put me in a better mood for my last day... pftch... as if... my stomach is still twisted.

Oh yeah, and my laptop is STILL broken. I am NOT going to be in a better mood until I have my life back. Yes, my life - searching for a job, a friend to move in, writing my ideas and thoughts, putting together artwork... things GROWN-UP'S DO!