A whole fu***ng bowl. Of Raisin Bran. And not one goddamn raisin. Just bran and milk. I knew it, I anticipated it when I poured the cereal through the too small hole in the bag, could see the raisins clogging up the inside....
Just kill me now.
As the phases of the lunar cycle go, so do my moods. It's looking like the bitter cynical one's getting ready to take over for a few months, after a spell of corporate scumbag positive attitude followed by that which I shall not describe, which is also over now.
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