- me: I'm so cute
- me 15 mins later: I hate myself
the next time someone asks me about my experience with customer service, i want to explain to them how i spend all day, every day, calmly negotiating with a terrorist that speaks broken english (at best), tries to bite me if i cut his peach up in a way he doesn’t like and will bang his head against the wall for fun while i try not to bang my own head against it in frustration.
not to mention the five-plus years i literally listed out for you on the goddamned paper you’re holding in your goddamned hands.7
parents when they can’t get a hold of you: “i called TWICE AND YOU DIDN’T PICK UP”
me when i can’t get a hold of my parents: “I BROKE MY LEG. I CALLED UR CELL 11 TIMES, UR WORK PHONE 7 TIMES, AND SENT YOU 23 TEXTS, AND NO RESPONSE”
my parents: “wow sorry i was busy”
this never changes no matter how old you are
#one time I literally broke my leg
srsly. it never changes. ever…
…until you spend 9 months breaking yr ass growing them a grandkid INSIDE OF YOUR BODY which you then have to push out of yr frakking vagina… then SUUUUUDDENLY they’ll pick up after half a goddamn ring and ask ‘how’s my BAYBEEEE?' and you think 'aw, my mama looooves me’, but when you go to answer, they’re like ‘no no no, my GRANDBABY'
and yr just like:
are you ever in the middle of saying something or showing someone something and you realize that literally no one cares
erry day, erry DAY, y’all.
i’m throwing a bangin’ pity party for myself this afternoon. if anyone wants to come, whiskey is the preferred hostess gift.2