Letter home

It’s been almost a week since Smashley grabbed her backpack and headed home, but I still have her beer in my fridge and her cigarettes in my purse. I’d have the memories, but those tend to get a little fuzzy when she’s around. To paraphrase Adam Sandler’s The Hannukah Song, “instead of one night of parties, we have eight craaaaaazy nights.? Thanks for livening up the place, Smash.

I’m going to have to figure out how to keep this up now that I’m working. For a paycheck! My mom’s pretty excited. I’m happy to be doing something constructive, getting out of the house, and meeting new people, but it’s really just for extra pre-holiday cash, not a career move. Friday was pretty brutal since I didn’t alter my usual 3 am bedtime but needed to be up at 6 am to make it to work, and then let the good times roll until the wee hours again. Those pictures are all the evidence I need that the good times are taking a physical toll, as if I couldn’t tell. But hey, it’s good prep for the holiday party season.

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