Got home and the first thing I did was pour a drink and lose every layer that wasn't absolutely necessary. Tuesdays don't get enough credit for the trouble they're worth. Want to come help me finish this bottle?
Gestern
Got home and the first thing I did was pour a drink and lose every layer that wasn't absolutely necessary. Tuesdays don't get enough credit for the trouble they're worth. Want to come help me finish this bottle?
I'm a full day late to the SKZ-REPLAY drop and honestly that's embarrassing for someone who claims to be a real STAY. Been lying here replaying it on loop like I'm trying to memorize every second before the mini-album drops. You're going to have to fight me for the aux this week.
Ninety-three degrees and my AC just surrendered. Got the new Stray Kids on loop and absolutely no reason to put anything on. Come make this heat worth it.
Thursday night and I stopped pretending I was going to be productive about an hour ago. The dogs are asleep, the apartment is dark, and this is exactly the kind of trouble I was planning all week. Tell me you're still up.
Thursday is the worst kind of tease — close enough to Friday that you can taste the weekend, far enough that you still have to pretend you're being productive. I've rewritten my to-do list three times today and somehow made it longer each time.
There's this weird guilt I get around midweek where I feel like I should be doing more, and then I remember nobody is checking my hours. The only boss I answer to is Potato, and he just wants his walk.
Tuesday afternoons hit different when you work for yourself. The whole world feels like it's rushing somewhere and I'm just here, perfectly content being the reason someone's distracted at their desk right now.
Every time I tell myself I'm just browsing, I'm lying. Three stores later and my dogs are going to be so confused when I walk in with more bags than I have arms for.
Sunday mornings are for planning next week's trouble. Already have three outfit ideas and a mood board that's going to make someone very weak.
Single on a Saturday night doesn't feel lonely when you have three dogs who think you're the main character — even if they're only watching me because they think I might drop something edible.