Actual footage of me picking up my food order during the Game of Thrones finale.
After setting up my projector and ordering food, I got in my car and realized my battery was dead. I must’ve left the dome light on Friday night when I was looking for that mango hi-chew that fell into the abyss.
The food was already paid for, so I had to take a lyft there and back to get it. Luckily, both of my drivers were more concerned about the rain in LA than the GoT finale. I called AAA when I got home, and the dude took an hour and a half to get to my apartment. Once he jump started my car, he told me that I should keep it running for another half hour! I got back home around 10pm after driving aimlessly in the rain and finally queued up the episode.
As it turns out, I didn’t need to partake in a social media blackout to avoid spoilers that night, because my entire evening leading up to the finale was more exciting than the finale itself!
I just binge watched two seasons of Casual, and I can’t believe this lady is only supposed to be five years older than me.
In her defense, I get carded all the time. Also, some dude coaching youth track at the park during lunch last week asked me if I was in high school! Sir, if you’re trying to get me to join your track team, I’m in my thirties. And more importantly, I don’t run.
We were watching TV at my mom’s house over the holiday, and right after they showed this part, my aunt paused it, turned to me with a concerned look on her face, and was all like, “You know you can talk to me, right???” I meannnn.
I caught up on seven episodes of How to Get Away with Murder with Pammie over the weekend. I’m dying to know what happens next, but I never watch this show by myself because I get too scared. I can’t wait till I’m home for Thanksgiving to find out who shot Annalise, so someone please come over when the new episode airs this Thursday!
Spoiler Alert: There will be frozen salmon from Costco (it’s the only thing I keep stocked in my fridge because holiday weight) and me with no pants on.
I’m doing it partly in preparation for all the BBQ and bad decisions I’ll be making in Austin next week, but mostly because I bet Anthony that I could lose twenty pounds by the time we went to ACL or I’d pay for his BBQ at Franklin. These last five pounds can’t be zumba’d off in a week, so I made a game-time decision to bring my juicer out of retirement yesterday.
I can’t wait to go on vacation! And also eat solid food again.
Mindy is back and still living my life, obviously.
I used to take Vicodin before getting a Brazilian (until I discovered the touch of an angel named Linda @ Viva Brazil – now @ The Wax Studio!).
I haven’t gone to the dentist in a year or two (or five). I used to buy groupons in lieu of dental insurance at my old job, and I had a habit of letting them expire before I could ever use them. I’ve had dental insurance for the past three years at my current job, and I don’t know what to tell ya. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Highlight of my day: After lunch with my coworkers @ Pitfire, the cute cashier slipped me a free jumbo chocolate chip cookie on my way out.
I met up with my coworkers outside afterwards, thrust my cookie in the air and was all like, “FREE COOKIE, BITCHES!” Our excitement was short-lived, though. When we got back to my car, I had two parking tickets—one for an expired meter (my friend paid the wrong one) and another for not having a front license plate (I mean, if my car was meant to have one, it would have come with holes drilled in it).
I owe the City of Manhattan Beach $96 for that free cookie!
I usually enjoy being on my back, but this is getting ridic.
I’ve been living off muscle relaxers, pain killers and salon pas for the past three weeks. The cause is still unknown, but I’m pretty sure I went too hard at the Paul McCartney show! Ha.
I’ve been stressed out at work lately, and the doctor thinks I might be carrying the stress in my back. If only he could write me a doctor’s note forbidding me to work overtime. It’s the least he can do, since he won’t prescribe me more vicodin!
The power went out in my apartment building again last week! I was already running late, and I had to go back upstairs in the dark to tell the maintenance guy to manually open the garage gate so I could get to fucking work already. This has happened three times in less than two months! And these are only the incidents that I know of, because I spend less than 50% of my time in this apartment (unless a burglar is reading this, in which case I’m home all the time. Plus I always keep my sharpest pair of fabric scissors within reach. And I’m not afraid to cut you.)
Once I get my new car situation settled, I’m moving out of this overpriced shit hole and torching it on yelp!