Thursday night. Dead. Stupid, ugly, humorless, boring, frigid bitches everywhere. Not a single girl I like in four hours. I don’t believe I’m still here. For five people. But because I didn’t have a plan, because I didn’t get my shit together, I’m stuck here for god knows how much longer. I don’t know what’s worse, being stuck in a job you hate or a place you’re sick of. I’ll be on a plane by November, December. I pray I don’t come back.