I’m developing a deeper friendship with my colleague across the hall. I really like her. She is interesting and funny and weird as fuck. She reminds me a lot of Lena Dunham. I like Lena Dunham. Haters gonna hate.
F’s hair is everywhere. I’m constantly picking it off myself. At least it’s beautiful hair. Strawberry blonde.
Drunken arguments and crying that lead to early morning make-up sex and me asking, “Did we argue last night or was it a dream?”
Success is sweet: double boxes, double and triple booked appointments, fucking gangbusters over here. Power coupling. ❤
Bestie night tonight = burritos and wine.
I haven’t looked in a really long time and I’m not going to look.
I have recognized some hypocrisy in myself (after a conversation last night). Must fix problem.
Tired, hungry, cold, unmotivated. Meh.
I’m buried in paper.
I need cats, caffeine, pain pills, a massage, a nap, and a burrito the size of my head.
That mutual masturbation scene in Girls was fucking hot. Ideas.