Dear Life, You SUCK.

Continuing with the Nablopomo theme of letters...

Dear Life;

Do me a favor and please stop sucking! No really, I'm serious. As if it wasn't enough that I find out I owe Tx DPS $1,660, I end up with a nice fat ticket the very next week and this week the car needs $1,100 in repairs - what can I say it's old.

Life I've already gone into how irritated the whole TxDPS thing is so I won't rehash it. The ticket, well that just sucks and I know it's my fault. The car, oh damn that's killing me. Killing me to know that repairs will cost WAY more than the car is worth and that I'm still paying for this piece of shit car (the car is a 94 Mazda Protege with extensive body damage, crapped out interior (people, don't smoke in your car!), LOTS of miles, the air doesn't work - never has, and well it's just getting old so pieces need to be replaced, the market value on the car is sooooo sad). So yeah, I have to figure out how to come up with the $$$$ for all of this. And hey! Rent is due! Woohoo!

Life, I just don't get it. Why do you have to pick on me all at the same time? Come on, can't you give a sistah a break? You know I make just barely over minimum wage, why you got to throw all this money trouble on me right now? And let's not even get into my other issues, suffice to say I need to talk to my Dr. about antidepressants and stop considering if the bridges around me are high enough (I kid, I kid... mostly).

There you go life, just stop fucking with me. I've had enough and honestly no one cares or wants to hear about my shitty life. EVERYONE has their own issues to deal with without listening/reading to any of this.

Sadly,
Judy