I didn’t do much on Sunday. It was a day of recovery and good friends. I mentioned I had a tough cry and they prepared to mobilize to talk, listen, or bring me a ghost sando. Ended up at the bar for some drinks and good chat. People say I deserve the best. I want the best blt and that’s not it.
I’ve been wearing my hair straight the past week and 3 out of 3 cute boys commented on it. 1 out of 3 said they liked it.
It’s time though. Irish car bombs, here we come.
2:11 am.
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