Fuck this shit.
The money is going on Millie's vet bills. And a tattoo.
And maybe one day I'll fucking forget.
I need to stop torturing myself and move the fuck on. She was just sitting there and I wasn't going to be able to use her. If I ever get better enough to row again fuck knows if she'd still be the right boat. If. When I'm walking with a stick because I can't keep my fucking balance how the fuck do I think I'm ever going to be able to row again?
