I had every intention to hit up Cinnabon when I went to the mall to look for a gift. When I attempted to purchase my gluttonous gooey bread-of-shame, my wallet was nowhere to be found in my purse. My forever-fat, anxious self even looked in my tiny change purse for my wallet. Nope, not in there. I never forget my wallet. Who does that when they own a purse to keep it in? I had to walk away from Cinnabon, with nothing.
I decided to try again at the Starbucks in Target. I purchased my cake pop and gleefully walked out of the store, like a fat kid with a lollipop. Oh,and my wallet? It was in the back seat. Deceptive bastard.
As I went to take my second bite of the cake pop, it fell off the stick. It actually rolled down my chin, over my fat gut, hit my shoe, and rolled into the gutter.
I fucking give up, alright?
I think the universe is trying to tell me something, ya think?