Over the course of my stay at my father's house his dear fiance had given me many articles of clothing and now, after I have packed them and moved them to my other place of residence, she is sending my dad down the stairs and into my room and asking for them back. The word that comes to mind? Indian Giver. But that's alright, I can deal. I have dealt with all this crazy shit my entire life.
Anyways, other than that annoying nuisance,
this morning I woke up and realized that I didn't have any clothes to wear because I moved all the stuff that I normally wear to my mom's house. So now I am in running clothes for the fourth straight day in a row. Do I mind? Not really.Do I wish I had a choice in my apparel though? Yeah, sort of.
I am off to move the shiz to my mom's, have breakfast, go on a lunch shindig, eat dinner with amigos and enjoy myself. If anyone wants to join in on a bottle of something, please, let me know. I would enjoy an escape right about now.
I would also REALLY enjoy my best friend being back home. Which she isn't. If anyone could make that happen, on good terms, please, let me know.
Yours Truly,
Christina
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