I consumed alcohol this past Tuesday / Thursday / Friday / Saturday / Sunday. For each instance I've reached a good level 7 as far as the buzz scale goes, although yesterday I only hit a 5. I know my limits.
On Thursday I caught myself professing the following statement: "I'm pretty sure everything about me is healthy—except my liver." I will calm my ass down, maybe in October when the good weather is over.
*Omitted* #WC reference, you know what this means.
There have been a few times when I've come home after a long day out, have already eaten dinner and my two gay roomies offer to feed me. Truth—they're fucking amazing cooks, and I know some men who can put in work in the kitchen. These two, they're naturals. I happily oblige. HAPPILY. Second dinner? GUILTY-AS-FUCK.
My name is "Krystal" when I'm not feelin' a guy hitting on me. "I'm only visiting NY from CA and I got a man at home." That's my default story. Down pat.
I signed up for three online dating sites (only the free ones) this past Monday. I deleted all my accounts after only three days. Shit was terrifying… I think I'll keep trying in real life for now.
I would rather read Buzzfeed, catch up with my Giants, chat with my homies back home, etc. than take my lunch into the kitchen and socialize like a proper person. Its bad. I wish I could rationalize eating at an actual table instead on top of my Wacom tablet in front of my monitor, but I can't. I should have more friends at work, but because I am anti-soc in this sense, I am lacking. HOWEVER—when they invite me to HH, I'm there. Bwahaha. Of course I would be.