Oh man, have I been waiting to say that. From an early age, I was always very, very superstitious, and fourteen has always been my lucky number. I am 27 years old, and it took this long to realize that is completely false now. This year sucked a big bag of donkey dicks. A big ol' bag. I wouldn't say I'm excited for 2015, per say... more just excited to shake off the dirty hobo stink from 2014.
I've never had such shitty fucking stuff happen. I am trying hard not to equate it to moving to Newport, but I don't know... I think this city blows. Literally more crap fucking shit has happened to me here than ever in my life. Aaaand I'm pretty over it. Newport is full of drunk fisherman and drunk people. Maybe a restaurant or two are worth checking out. And can we talk about the drama? *shudders*
In a way I'm almost glad I got let go from my job... After three fucking months of bar managing with the promise of a pay raise to all of a sudden being asked to resign... Really makes you think about your life direction. Almost a year of listening to Newport gossip. This town is fucking strange and awful. I'm a 27 year old bartender. Enough! It feels a bit like being a little kid again and trying to catch someone while running through waves. No matter how hard you think you're running, you are really only going about half the speed or less than those on dry land.
I think it is definitely 'get your shit together' o'clock.