I apologize.

I’ve been wishing Black Mirror technology exists. Something that can take all these random thoughts in my head down while I’m doing menial tasks. I’d have a hell of a lot more posts if a chip in my brain could write a rough draft of a stream of consciousness.

The story of my life is incredibly mundane right now.

Last Friday I discovered the canned wine section at BevMo. I stood there for a minute, contemplating which canned $5 chardonnay might be the oakiest until Tako’s patience completely ran out.

Yes. I walk Tako to Bevmo, he’s so familiar with this route that he expects to go inside even when we’re not on a wine run.

I digress tho.

Sometimes I think my life should be sexier. Like maybe I should hit up a bar with one of my hot GFs with the intention of taking someone home. Maybe I should try and fulfill that random bucket list item of fucking a bartender. Part of me still think’s that would be an interesting occupation to check off. But that’s not gonna happen, because I don’t think intimacy or even an orgasm with a complete stranger is the least bit fulfilling—besides, I’ve been nothing but disappointed about the quality of D I’ve gotten since moving back to SF. I’m not trying anymore. I’m not adding any more “L’s” to the body count (if I can help it, GOD willing).

So just picture me at Bevmo (on a Friday night), standing in front of a wall of canned wine. Picking up each chardonnay and trying to figure out what the fuck the copywriter means by the random description they had to write.

Just tell me how buttery your chardonnay is, please. That’s all I really want.

You can imagine why I’ve been struggling to pen a post. My life is just the perfect amount of funny sad single girl.

Still more funny than sad. 100%.