So I quit my job; Friday was my last day.
Friday night I went downtown with my cousin. We drank, and we smoked, and we made friends with everyone we made eye contact with. We went downtown with intention to bar hop, but had such a great time and the first bar, we stayed all night. I woke up the next day at 6a (per usual) and Amanda was already awake too! We still-drunkenly laughed in my guest bedroom until my boyfriend woke up to take us to get breakfast burritos.
Saturday we spent draped across the couches under blankets, watching Black Mirror, and Facebook stalking the guy that Amanda made out with at the bar. My boyfriend worked a quick few hours in the next city over, then came home to camp out in the garage finishing old projects and starting new ones. I went to bed early, since I was basically dying of a hangover. (I’m so lame.)
Sunday I felt like a brand new person and cleaned up the whole fucking house. It rained most of the day so I had to pull in my succulents from the patio. I finished up some of the wood shaving flower ensembles I started. Begged boyfriend to come to bed… all lights were off by 10pm (SCORE.)
MONDAY: my alarm went off this morning, because I guess I forgot to disable that small detail. Boyfriend got up and left for work. I forced myself out of bed by 8:30am. I thought about going for a walk, but it’s raining again. I’ve had two cups of coffee, and watered all my indoor plants. I made breakfast, completed 3 levels on Mario Kart, and now I have to go straighten my hair for my 1:00pm interview at a CPA office.
Welp.
Wild Little Hare 