There. It’s a Cock towel. Did I ever show you my Cock towel? I totally embroidered that shit. Not listed for sale yet.
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| I wouldn’t use it for drying dishes. It’s a flippin COCK towel. |
I’m 2 days a week at the thrift store. The Universe wants me there for reasons I’ve yet to fully work out. I’m trying to just TRUST that shit, and let all the good things happen. What I’m HOPING the good thing is, is that a rich dude comes in and gives me riches, and I can pay off debts and live happily ever after, in a gypsy wagon, touring the country reading tarot cards with a beautiful man and a tambourine, and writing the novel.
However…
I’ve mentioned I have other jobs, right? Part time/occasionally I work at a wellness centre. Touching feet.
And, I read Tarot Cards. Anyway, every other day this work week has been filled with the feets or the cards. And that IS awesome (see previous sentence re: debts.) however, it is also SUMMER.Why can’t they fill up like this in winter?
Summer. In cottage country. It’s when all the best stuff happens, but also all the best MONEYS to be had.
I may just be bitchy because I’m effin’ too tired to take part in the fun stuff. Or to cook foods. Which in turn makes me too tired. Viscious. I’ve been in jammy pants since 6:30 pm.
Also, I have no idea where my mentsrual cicle. Wait. Cycle. Holy Cock Towel, I’m so tired I’m forgetting how to spell.
Dear Universe: I know you’re listening. I KNOW it. Thanks for the money. I appreciate it. How about a few BIG reveals soon, kay? Awesome. And, show me where the millions are coming from. I know they are out there just waiting for me!
Okay. This was supposed to be far more rewarding. Or revealing. I dunno.
Grace.
