Letters from Sanford Street # 488

I'm at an Irish pub. I ordered fish and chips. I really don't want to spend money eating at restaurants, but, I think I also no longer give a shit.

I don't want to be late for work, and again, I'm not sure I give a shit anymore.

I'm hungry. I honestly resent everything. I'm honestly not happy anymore. I honestly.

I wanted to go to the art store. Work on a stupid art portfolio. I almost know that it's not going to be fucking good enough.

But I'm not sure I give a shit anymore.

Maybe I'll just fucking skip work. I'm still not sure I give a shit anymore.