Blah. I hate being lonely. I hate tiny kitchens and nonstop window-unit air conditioners. I hate the ceaseless silence of my apartment and sharing friendlier smiles with customers than I share with my coworkers. I miss the sunshine and desert-heat and wearing alligator plush on my head where little children can see me. I miss my dog and my IHOP and all the people I'd meet in it. I miss organic produce and a short drive to work and the central time zone.
I hate missing things.
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I hate missing things.
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Prepare a Face:
yucky
Love Song: Tori Amos - I Can't See New York
1 scene | swell a progress