Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face.

I feel like I am suffocating under a pile of books, which would normally not be a bad thing. But when said books are textbooks...I start to get really angry. I hate reading for school. I hate textbooks, and I hate the stupid things teachers assign us to read. Seriously. My degree will be in Creative Writing. I really don't care about the Theory of Literature. Do people even know there's a theory of literature? I'm in the class, and I still don't know what that means. Sigh. Taking three summer classes was probably not my best idea. I'm sitting here with this gigantic textbook trying not to read it. But I have to. It's a form of torture. I'm sure of it. I have my iPod playing, which also is probably not the best idea. But I can't take the silence. And with facebook and TMZ and People...I'm gettign seriously sidetracked. Everytime Brand New comes on, I get so excited as they are one of my favorite bands. Then Taylor Swift pops up, and how can you NOT sing to T Swift?! It's impossible. Then Kid Cuddi comes on and the next thing I know, I'm rapping. It's really sad all of the things I do to get out of studying. In fact, I'm blogging just to get out of studying. So pathetic.

While I'm procrastinating, I feel like I should let the public know about being courteous to your sales associate. I work at a very large retail store. I work in the intimate apparel and childrens department. This means that I am, unfortunately, a bra fitter. Seriously ladies, there is NOTHING wrong with being a size D or higher. Women pay to be in your position, so don't bitch. By the way, when I tell you you're a D don't moan about how big and gross that is. I am a DD, and I take offense to your immediate dismissal of anything over a size C. Also, I don't size you for fun. In fact, I hate it. I do it because I have to. I also don't pull your size out of my ass. Don't tell me I don't know how to size. Don't go try on a million bras in the size you think you are and then complain that they don't fit. I told you they wouldn't fit. In fact, I gave you wonderful bras that would work beautifully. Also, don't talk to me like I am somehow lower than you. And honestly, what's wrong with working in retail anyways?! And to end this, as I really need to study, DO NOT TALK ON YOUR CELL PHONE WHEN YOU'RE CHECKING OUT. Nothing says "you're not worth my time" more than that. Oh and one more thing, don't you dare be rude to me and then ask if I have a coupon. The answer will always be no.