You can almost pinpoint the exact moment where the person building this shelf just gave up.
He is looking around the room to see if he can find any of the fucks he doesn’t give.
This took a few hours to clean up. At the bottom of this chair pile, I found my shattered mop bucket. Why do these kids hate me?
I threw up twice because it's so terrifying for me to see my dead friends and family treated this way!