52 and a half.

No, not a deck of cards plus a joker face. Not a few weeks short of a year. Not the age I'll be next.

It's my rompin' work week hours between two jobs. It sucks to sacrifice my free time, since I'm at the ripe age of 22 and all, but hey, all good things come to an end for a little while. I really need the money in order to keep my hair on my head and not in a silverly hue.

I keep telling myself it's money, it's money, it's money in my pocket. It's money for bills, for the car, for rent, for trips down the road, for school.

There's a lot that suffers from it, one thing of which is the house. Now, I love my roommates and I'll scream it 'til the cows come home, but what the shit. The boys don't know the concept of a trashbag or paper towel.
So alas, when that suffers, I suffer and I leave the house to venture out.

I might go rollerskate shopping soon. Just for fun, not to join the roller derby or anything. I hate getting bruised.

Travel plans are somewhat shot now, but not because I don't have the money.

I don't know, everything's kind of screwed up right now, in both good and bad ways. I'm trying to get it all figured out, when my mind has time to be alert and the gears decide to turn. I lack a lot in answers. But I have to accept the fact that I'll never recieve them like I hoped I would.

Whatever. I'm in limbo. No worries. I'll climb out.