I’m 100% done with today so I’m just going to order makeup online for the last 40 minutes of work.
So you think, oh, I’m not going to have any more bad stuff happen to me because it just isn’t statistically possible and my life wasn’t written by Shonda Rhimes (girl, love you though), but then you take your first job and you’re being harassed and HR decides their jobs are more important and basically do nothing except give you “tools to confront them” (isn’t that what human resources is, maybe I’m wrong) and tell you that it’s sometimes hard for people your age to take authority. Ummmmmmm, okay. “Authority” gets to touch your stomach and say you’re getting fat and ask you if you’re pregnant and say you won’t fit in your wedding dress.
Glad I decided to delete my tumblr and that no one knows this exists.
I’m baaaaacckkkk bitches. I don’t really know what I hope to get out of tumblr or even if there is anything to get out of tumblr but no one follows me now so I can say what I want.
I don’t really have anything appropriate to say except that the nature of trauma and the act of dealing with trauma you didn’t know you had suppressed is much harder than I would have anticipated.
And I just want to go to Disney World so bad.