Can’t Love, Can’t Hurt

We were on the roof of America and all we could do was yell, I guess

In the last few weeks, my quarter-life crisis has manifested itself in peculiar ways. My room is now home to two half-done paintings, a half-done volcano, and a bed that I moved right up against the window so I would feel like I’m camping every night. Also, I’m signing up for Portuguese 1 and Pottery 1 at CCAC. Making pots is usually central to any life crisis I encounter. And I make out with everyone apparently? Bad news bears. Life is bananas right now.

My job is surprisingly pretty great. I have coworkers with normal social skills. I don’t dread every morning that I have to get up and go to my soul sucking place of employment. I get paid way more. Not what I want to do forever, obviously. But I’m pretty happy for now. It’s so easy to be happy when you only work 30 hours a week. Living the dream.

By the way, my family is amazing… I’d say the uncles did a pretty damn good job.

Finally, today’s album.

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