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 Latest
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Diaryland |
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2002-07-04 - 5:56 p.m. So yeah, as of late I've been working as a delivery driver for Pat's, a pizza joint in Aber-dump. It's cool. Making mad tips. Small problem though. They've been paying me in envelopes stuffed with twenty dollar bills, tax-free. I dig it and all and I don't give a fuck about the new tip thing for taxes, but yeah, I'm walking around with 700 dollars of 20's, 10's, and a shitload of 1's in my pocket. My wallet can't even contain it. It's like the big wad of play money I used to carry to pretend like I was a big money hustler, but only this time it's real money. I feel like a drug dealer. I bought a CD today and the clerk's eyes sort of reacted when I pulled out my wad of dough. She knew some bum like me shouldn't be carrying this dough. I wasn't wearing a pair of gators and a tailored Versace suit. I felt odd. Anyways, I'm rollin in dough and delivering it too. It keeps my mind off of shit and I'm freestyling more. Woman problems abound as of late. Eventhough that's fundamentally depressing in a sense, it's really good to not feel alone. I'm going over to all my friends consoling this and that and relating this and that and getting different perspectives. Gives me more worth and less time to dwell in thought. I love Raven always. I'm not giving up on her. I just have a feeling, you know, I believe in her. I just see it. It's weird, I know she needs space and I already told her I don't want her to be uncomfortable and how I feel. Even if we think differently right now, we still carry a level of respect between us; I mean we're walking on eggshells, but we do it meaningfully and with a positive outlook, for me, for her, for us. I'm glad I didn't just leave and I'm more then thankful that she didn't either. I mean, it's like, we can manage never seeing each other again, we can all manage that way, but why do something like that when there's all that history, trust, and all that good shit that brought us so much? Yaknowhatimsayin????
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