This morning, I saw a guy standing outside my office building chugging a beer. We made eye contact, and I hope my look conveyed what I was thinking, which was: Fuck yes. Do you, baby.
Waking up this morning was absolutely brutal. The struggle is real.
I’m doing this pro bono case and the client is my absolute fave. He is the kind of client who makes it all worth it.
It’s sort of funny that the client who doesn’t pay me is my favorite client.
I have some difficult conversations in my not so distant future and I am not looking forward to them. Not one bit.
I’m on day two of my hangover. When will it sink in for me that I’m 36 and not 26?
My bestie took me out for a burrito last night. She’s the best.
I’m looking forward to an evening with the bf on his couch that will soon also be my couch.
Can you tell I’m excited about moving in together?
