Brazilian Waxshower After

But whatever happens, we will always be found ...

For about two days, I'm bleeding already and it's as if I had never done anything else. The hot water bottle resting on my lap while I sit on the desolierten office chair, which eventually was pushed into my room when no longer needed him, and sentences formulate in my head that I want to expose to an imaginary community, to create the illusion that I had a small group of loyal readers around me, pursuing my life and something which is due to my being. In fact, I'm a bit before this, but I would never admit publicly.
At work today I saw something funny. The three monuments boys who work in the museum were once again at noon in the office and kitchen area, which I resented them not to be honest. After all, who likes sitting around in the cold?
entertained any case, I am with the boys, with most of my attention focused on the schnuckigsten the three Boys was. The conversation corresponded to a somewhat trivial little things blah about the future, school forms, movies and more. Then he stood up and asked for a Zeva cloth. I ran with him to give it to rich one. Stupid smile I grabbed the entire roll stand together and held it out to him. In the other hand, I just fumbled around with a spoon that was about to land in my cup of tea and dissolve the sugar they contain by slow stirring. Of course, he took the role of thanks. Dan flew the wooden stand on the ground, just like my spoon, I had dropped in shock. Before I could do something, he already had both lifted. I took the things now and then our conversation verfüchtigte some point, when the boss sat down at the table and began to eat.
was the only thing that annoyed me because my hair yesterday, not washed, overslept today and tied the ugly mane with a hair rubber, reinforced with braces, had not natural to me was to make up in some form and otherwise because of a sore abdomen was not up to snuff.

to go with my sensitive, pitiful state of the last days I read about a book. "Missin me not" by Cecelia Ahern, author of PS I love you. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. The book I've zuendegleesen today. And despite my initial skepticism, I liked it. No earth-shattering book, and somewhere worth reading. The author has it by the constant change of location but actually managed to throw me off track and making each part so that we constantly had the urge to want to read ALL AT ONCE, which was not possible. In the end I even shed a few lonely little tears. But perhaps it is because of my sensitive state of ... or the real issue: the Find and be found.

Memo to me: you should talk more often with schniecken types ... if you should address what times!