It’s always a Nuclear Weapon

If it wasn’t obvious from my last blog post, I didn’t end up going to VA. Instead, I woke up the next morning at 9:00, spent an hour and a half crying on the hotel bed and hopped in the car to begin my return drive home. It was not quite 11:00 when I went through the Hardee’s drive-through and ordered two cheese biscuits (I only ate one). I pulled up to the window, still actively crying, and replied with a despondent, “yes,” when the cashier girl asked if I was okay. And that bitch charged me full price AND didn’t give me a free cookie.* C’mon! Chick to chick! Girl Code? Does being a fellow woman mean nothing anymore?!

So Sunday I went online and requested an appointment with a psychiatrist because this shit can’t be happening.Image result for ain't nobody got time for that


And Monday I woke up already feeling anxious because I had just had a dream about having a panic attack whilst flying to Alaska. And I reeealllyyyy don’t have time for that.

AND THEN, this morning, I see this:


Like, what the fuck universe? You really don’t want me in Alaska, huh? So I think I may just spend the rest of the year under my amazingly soft bamboo sheets and way-too-expensive-but-beautiful comforter. Feel free to join. But act fast because space is limited.

Oh, and happy 4th of July (the best month there ever was).

See ya at the top, bomb pop


*I don’t even know if Hardee’s has cookies but she could have worked something out. I believed in her.

I might.


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