She's seriously fucked up.
All she can talk about is the same stupid science workshop.
And she cares too much about what people think.
She's in the other room yelling at me, telling me to put on some make up and straighten my hair.
For the lady.
Who's coming to my house.
FUCK THAT.
It's in my damn house.
She keeps going on and on about first impressions.
I get that they're important.
But she doesn't seem to get past the fact that it's not the end of the world if someone thinks I'm a slob when they first meet me.
Because, crazily enough, I believe in actually working for respect. Not just getting it because I'm neatly groomed.
If I work for respect, the people who'll end up respecting me will be the one's that didn't just pay attention to the first impression- they'll be the people who looked past what I looked like to see who I am. And those are the people I care about.
People care too much about looks.
The world is fucked up.
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