Talkin’ ’bout myself again. This time: anal sex! Or rather, how to not have it, because I don’t know.
I’m updating my blog from my office because the trackpad on my Macbook broke and I had a little bit of work due. My deadline was 5pm Friday, which I totally thought I was ahead of because I had no idea it was the weekend until the rest of the world was way into Saturday. I was skipping to the office like, “La la la, I’m working even though I’m still on vacation, I’m so good at my job, look at me go, give me a raise, la la la,” and then boom, jay kay, it’s actually Saturday and I missed my deadline by 18 hours. A for effort?
Anyway, I smoked a lot of pot over my Christmas break. I also didn’t check my phone, though not by choice, but because there is no cell service where my boyfriend’s folks live in Camp Meeker, which sounds like a made up place but it’s actually a town in Sonoma County that’s so small all they have is a volunteer fire station and a “welcome” banner that makes it feel like you’re going to an actual summer camp. So yes, I feel like I’ve been in Lala Land the past week and I am still not 100% sure what day it is. Writing this article for Thought Catalog is the only quasi-productive thing I did.