let’s get metaphysical
Customs agent pointed to the huge lump in my checked bag that was weighing down my entire body, and asked “what’s in there”. I just said “tools” and he went “oh, okay”.
Absolutely freaking the fuck out. I’m never going to get the pictures back that were on it. I’m on the verge of tears right now. I don’t even know how I’m getting home tomorrow. I want to die. I just changed all my passwords to everything. If we texted, find my on fb and send me your nombre so I can text you again when I get a new phone.
Woke up with this in my book and a name, number, and email address written on a napkin. Apparently I got married last night?
All I want to do right now is work on my amp, but it looks as though it’ll be *another* three weeks before I can even think about that, and it’s killing me. :(