I’ve had two very weird days.
Nothing actually happened. I didn’t wake up on…Thursday, was it? Go with Thursday. I didn’t wake up on Thursday to find my house full of alien clowns that were also ghosts, who then took me on a magical adventure to a land where everything is delicious and glittery, and there are also very fat unicorns.
If you’d like to pretend that’s what happened, you can just ignore the rest of this post.
I hardly need to actually write a post, since I just gave everything away in the title, and I’ve already explained how I’m basically a supermassive black hole of self-involvement. But, well, I’m going to anyway. I got permission, and I haven’t written anything in a while.
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I’m a big fan of honesty and not hiding things, so let’s be up front about something: I am a complete failure when it comes to behaving like a grownup.
I’m thirty-two. I have no fucking clue how that happened — my best guess is that time snuck by while my back was turned, on a rocket or something.
Shit, lost the thread already. This does not bode well.