Hey there chicas, miss me much?
Yeah, well get used to it.
But, on the flip side, I'll probably paint my fingernails tomorrow.
Oh, and I've got a complex. The sort of complex where you're only interested in guys who are
a) too young (yes, cougar at 18, time to apply for a world record)
b) way too old
c) dating someone else
d) really not interested
e) probably gay
f) fictional
or
g) all of the above, aka most unattainable men.
Oh, and if you chose all of the above, you're correct! Surprise.
I'm a mess. And if any of my glorious love interests actually get really interested, I run away, so far away.
It's all right though. I'll drown my sorrows in nail polish and lemonade and old Doctor Who episodes. Like a champion.
It's late, and I'm tired from a seven hour shift and I smell terrible. Time for pajamas and facewash, please.
Oh! And I'm trying to get in the habit of writing a bit each day. Not for this blog, like, short stories or chapters or etc. So far, three days of decentness. Lets try and go for tomorrow too, now sport.
Peace out, Holmes. Sherlock. Holmes.
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