It's never as great as it's supposed to be, is what I'm saying, mr man.

Today's the kind of day where.. my nail polish looks like crap. I can't bring myself to put on a bra, my hair is messy, and all I really have to do to fix it is find a brush, but I can't form thoughts for long enough to figure out where we keep the damn hair brushes.
It's a miracle that I'm writing this right now.

It's Christmas Eve in two friggin days, and I don't know what to do with that information.
Like, why does that have to effect my life today?
It's like someone telling you you're gonna die in a week. That sucks. Now they've ruined your week for sure.
Oh, and I'm not comparing Christmas to the tragic act of dying. I actually love Christmas. I'm just comparing the pressure of Christmas and how it's gonna be "the best day ever" to a very painful death--- perhaps in traffic.. or in front of a harvester.

What was I gonna say?

Oh. I decorated our Christmas tree yesterday, together with my brother... And of course, I had to film all of it. So then I asked myself: do I upload this? If not for the people that don't give a shiz about our tree, what about doing it for my christmas-spirit-less sister in Australia?
I'm sure she'd love to watch us pointing and sighing.... in super speed... and in complete darkness.

I don't know.

I should go poke my belly button.
That sounds important enough.


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