Me and Olivia Pope are dismissing you.
So sometimes my stoop is like the party stoop where the locals get loud and get high. Well I usually just try to get into my apartment undetected because I don’t wanna make waves.
So tonight, me and the boy were walking to a restaurant around the block so we obviously had to walk down the party stoop. We made it mostly unscathed until this girl with swirly hair was all, “hi!”
And I, naively, took the bait and said, “hi.”
To which she responded, “she speaks.”
Like they’re all in on me being some snooty broad that is too good to talk to them. So I just alpha-stared her down, but the point is really that I know this bitch is gonna be a problem and god I just wanted a nice chicken dinner what the hell?
I need you to know that I’ve spent no less than 2 hours lamenting the “dying for ice cream” to “but i want to be skinny” ratio happening in my head.
It’s like 50* outside and I do not understand how to layer in this weather. I’m basically wearing a giant cardigan and a ski resort coat, and it’s hot now and I just want to crawl back into my room, past piles and piles of filthy laundry that I was too sick to do last week and sleep until 4 or maybe 5.