...Was fucked around until I died of stress
A friend recently emailed me with a 'fake' T-shirt with this message on it. I though it was amusingly apt.
Isco missed out on his latest almost-sure-thing job, and I still despise mine and think they're totally taking the piss... I really don't think they rate me at all. Is it my delivery, or being Australian? Or what? I just want to walk, but while we're still a one-income household for all intents and purposes, it's too risky.
I'm trapped.
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