happy fucking friday.

i'm hating my feet badly right now. actually, i'm hating many things badly right now, but the feet are in the closest proximity.

the funny thing is is that the very thing which is making me hate them is the exact same reason i feel abominably sorry for them.

see, they're suffering the early summer contusions and they've got it bad. cuts, scrapes, blisters, calluses, nastiness, you name it and it's currently making an appearance on my tootsies. they're heinous and they hurt.

i keep meaning to get a pedicure, at least get someone to give them a bit of a rub, relax the poor cramping tendons. but i continually put it off. not sure why, because i think that it would make me irrevocably happy to have my feet taken care of. they'd probably protest being squeezed into bitch heels a lot less. or sandals. or boots. or just really shoes, for that matter.

my feet are angry, and for a pisces that's not good.

maybe that's why things are feeling so fucked up right now. all the piscean gods are punishing me for abusing my feet.

ah well. at least it hasn't yet rippled out into my friends' lives. they all seem to be doing just swimmingly.

item! who the fuck calls up to make an appointment to see an apartment at ELEVEN O CLOCK AT NIGHT? not that i'm not up then, it's more a matter of principle.

item! who the fuck calls to cancel a date twenty minutes beforehand, when the girl is on her way to the venue and the excuse is that he wants to spend the evening with his cousin?! and why do i even care? and why is this sort of bullshit a recurring pattern in my life

god. maybe i should just run off into the sunset with twelve-year old snaggletoothed pret boy and be done with it. it appears less and less that i'm ever going to do any better.