Happy Home

Today, me and another worker were asked to clean out chicken breasts and legs before sticking them in an oven. I kind of stood there as the other guy opened the bag of meat pieces with blood pooled at the bottom. Raw, freshly-killed looking ribs. And having to rip excess fat off the breasts (I was thinking at that point, you know we only have to do that because females are forcefed/fattened to the point where those little legs can’t support them). It was so disgusting. At one point, I excused myself to the restroom. Came back. There’s bits of gore in the sink. I comment on it and my coworker’s like “Yeah…I pulled down a heart earlier but I figured you wouldn’t want to see it.”

No shit!

I excused myself to the bake shop and amused myself with fudge cookies. Clearly, God is trying to push me back on the vegan wagon. But I really don’t want to lose weight. Really, really don’t want to. *looks down at overflowing cleavage line*