Eight months and twenty-six days…eight months and twenty-six days I’ve dealt with complete and total garbage. Eight months and twenty-six days of death and dismay and proper bullshit. Eight months and twenty-six days.
Now, on to month nine. Month nine I expect to get its act together. Month nine better respect the fact that I’ve got some serious karmic points built up and I’m ready to cash in. Month nine better get me a damn job and a place to live in whichever state will have me. Month nine better have my son feeling better about things that have transpired in the past eight months and twenty-six days. Month nine needs to soften the blow of my damn birthday, and leave me just enough money to buy myself some Lush Vanillary perfume. Is that too much to ask, month nine?
I feel like my entire life has been building up to this point. I’ve not had the easiest life, and I’m ok with that simply because I know that bad times can’t last forever. Without sad there would be no happy…I’ve said it a million times. I can move passed the sad, as long as I can find my little oasis, my silver lining. So with that being said…COUGH IT UP, UNIVERSE! You. Freaking. Owe. Me. Big.
I’m ready and willing to do whatever it takes to facilitate the next steps of my journey. I just need that cosmic push. Have karma, will travel. I’m ready.