The Thursday Diaries

I hate I hate I hate

I am the sulky waitress tonight. Someone just gave me a sugar-free Red Bull. Now I can be sulky and wired. Apparently now there's a Red Bull Zero or some such thing, for those who cannot deal with those TEN CALORIES.

I am not very good at this diet thing. Plus, it's party season. All that cheese and wine. I should be European and eat that for lunch tomorrow.

Is it time to send you home yet?

And then after all the parties is the whiteflour whitesugar salt fest of fucking Christmas.  Ugh.
I used to like it a lot more. Where did that go?

Stop. Doing. That. WHYAREYOUDOINGTHAT? Don't you have a vacation to go on? And I realize you're busy with your one fucking table, but really? Take your wine list to the front LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE. Really.

I need a glass of wine. How long? 3.5 hours at the very least.

Stop hovering!!!!

No, I will not play word games with you.

It's them crazy Chinese herbs what done it!

2.5 hours.
iiiiii
I would do this every Thursday but it's hard to phone it.

lalllllalllalala
And it would be the same thing every week