I am 28.
I want a corgi puppy,
spunky mustard-yellow shoes,
a 29th birthday that doesn’t suck,
a job that doesn’t make me cry,
and my own home.
I need?
A job.
…
Because, well, while I want to need those mustard-yellow shoes,
I know that my feet will be covered (and pretty) without them.
(Inspired by recoveringlazyholic)
