Tag Archives: I am a single loser

Not for straight dudes.

Well here we are. It’s fucking Valentine’s Day.

And my plan this year was to ignore it. In general, it’s a day just like any other. I still hit my snooze button about 5 too many times. I drove the same route to work, saw the same shitty people once I arrived at work, and when my obligation is over at 5, I’ll hit the gym, just like any other day.

And you know what? I’ll watch the same TV shows I did last Thursday and I’ll go to bed, toss and turn, until my alarm goes off tomorrow.

Each year, even years when I’ve had a boyfriend, I’ve dreaded this day. Some years, I’m like, “Hey I have a boyfriend!!!!!! Finally I don’t have to hate myself and this day,” and then I end up hating myself and my boyfriend because he is an asshole.

And some years, I’m like “Yes! I will wear all black and go to the bars and drink cosmos and be happy for my single life because I am awesome.”

And years, like this year, I will try my damnedest to ignore it. But it’s still there. And it still hurts. Even if it is a dumb holiday, it still fucking hurts.

Good for you, couples. You get your day to show each other how much you care. It’s kind of like how you get to do that on your anniversary, or on each other’s birthdays, or on Christmas Day, or Thanksgiving Day, or on random Tuesdays when it’s raining outside. Because on all of those days, singletons feel like shit, and we wish we were you.

So today, I hate being single. And I don’t care how pathetic it sounds because it’s true. And I was going to write about something totally different. Then, I thought about writing a post for Gizzy, because she’s the closest thing I have to any sort of Valentine (no-homo). Then, I just realized that not much is going to cure my blues today, except for one thing.

Pictures of hot dudes surrounded by Lorem Ipsum type. Enjoy.

zaaaaac-zac-efron-31338261-700-825Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Nam cursus. Morbi ut mi. Nullam enim leo, egestas id, condimentum at, laoreet mattis, massa. Sed eleifend nonummy diam. Praesent mauris ante, elementum et, bibendum at, posuere sit amet, nibh. Duis tincidunt lectus quis dui viverra vestibulum. Suspendisse vulputate aliquam dui. Nulla elementum dui ut augue. Aliquam vehicula mi at mauris. Maecenas placerat, nisl at consequat rhoncus, sem nunc gravida justo, quis eleifend arcu velit quis lacus. Morbi magna magna, tincidunt a, mattis non, imperdiet vitae, tellus. Sed odio est, auctor ac, sollicitudin in, consequat vitae, orci. Fusce id felis. Vivamus sollicitudin metus eget eros.

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Mauris vel lacus vitae felis vestibulum volutpat. male-models-17Etiam est nunc, venenatis in, tristique eu, imperdiet ac, nisl. Cum sociisnatoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. In iaculis facilisis massa. Etiam eu urna. Sed porta. Suspendisse quam leo, molestie sed, luctus quis, feugiat in, pede. Fusce tellus. Sed metus augue, convallis et, vehicula ut, pulvinar eu, ante. Integer orci tellus, tristique vitae, consequat nec, porta vel, lectus. Nulla sit amet diam. Duis non nunc. Nulla rhoncus dictum metus. Curabitur tristique mi condimentum orci. Phasellus pellentesque aliquam enim. Proin dui lectus, cursus eu, mattis laoreet, viverra sit amet, quam. Curabitur vel dolor ultrices ipsum dictum tristique. Praesent vitae lacus. Ut velit enim, vestibulum non, fermentum nec, hendrerit quis, leo. Pellentesque rutrum malesuada neque.

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Mario-Loncarski-male-models-24363893-900-1286

Phasellus felis dolor, scelerisque a, tempus eget, lobortis id, libero. Donec scelerisque leo ac risus. Praesent sit amet est. In dictum, dolor eu dictum porttitor, enim felis viverra mi, eget luctus massa purus quis odio. Etiam nulla massa, pharetra facilisis, volutpat in, imperdiet sit amet, sem. Aliquam nec erat at purus cursus interdum. Vestibulum ligula augue, bibendum accumsan, vestibulum ut, commodo a, mi. Morbi ornare gravida elit. Integer congue, augue et malesuada iaculis, ipsum dui aliquet felis, at cursus magna nisl nec elit. Donec iaculis diam a nisi accumsan viverra. Duis sed tellus et tortor vestibulum gravida. Praesent elementum elit at tellus. Curabitur metus ipsum, luctus eu, malesuada ut, tincidunt sed, diam. Donec quis mi sed magna hendrerit accumsan. Suspendisse risus nibh, ultricies eu, volutpat non, condimentum hendrerit, augue. Etiam eleifend, metus vitae adipiscing semper, mauris ipsum iaculis elit, congue gravida elit mi egestas orci. Curabitur pede.

Maecenas aliquet velit vel turpis. Mauris neque metus, malesuada nec,1338831642_zac-efron-lg ultricies sit amet, porttitor mattis, enim. In massa libero, interdum nec, interdum vel, blandit sed, nulla. In ullamcorper, est eget tempor cursus, neque mi consectetuer mi, a ultricies massa est sed nisl. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos hymenaeos. Proin nulla arcu, nonummy luctus, dictum eget, fermentum et, lorem. Nunc porta convallis pede.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Nam cursus. Morbi ut mi. Nullam enim leo, egestas id, condimentum at, laoreet mattis, massa. Sed eleifend nonummy diam. Praesent mauris ante, elementum et, bibendum at, posuere sit amet, nibh. Duis tincidunt lectus quis dui viverra vestibulum. Suspendisse vulputate aliquam dui. Nulla elementum dui ut augue. Aliquam vehicula mi at mauris. Maecenas placerat, nisl at consequat rhoncus, sem nunc gravida justo, quis eleifend arcu velit quis lacus. Morbi magna magna, tincidunt a, mattis non, imperdiet vitae, tellus. Sed odio est, auctor ac, sollicitudin in, consequat vitae, orci. Fusce id felis. Vivamus sollicitudin metus eget eros.

abercrombie-model

Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas. In posuere felis nec tortor. Pellentesque faucibus. Ut accumsan ultricies elit. Maecenas at justo id velit placerat molestie. Donec dictum lectus non odio. Cras a ante vitae enim iaculis aliquam. Mauris nunc quam, venenatis nec, euismod sit amet, egestas placerat, est. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas. Cras id elit. Integer quis urna. Ut ante enim, dapibus malesuada, fringilla eu, condimentum quis, tellus. Aenean porttitor eros vel dolor. Donec convallis pede venenatis nibh. Duis quam. Nam eget lacus. Aliquam erat volutpat. Quisque dignissim congue leo.

Mauris vel lacus vitae felis vestibulum volutpat. David-Gandy-hot-guys-3580748-428-600Etiam est nunc, venenatis in, tristique eu, imperdiet ac, nisl. Cum sociis natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. In iaculis facilisis massa. Etiam eu urna. Sed porta. Suspendisse quam leo, molestie sed, luctus quis, feugiat in, pede. Fusce tellus. Sed metus augue, convallis et, vehicula ut, pulvinar eu, ante. Integer orci tellus, tristique vitae, consequat nec, porta vel, lectus. Nulla sit amet diam. Duis non nunc. Nulla rhoncus dictum metus. Curabitur tristique mi condimentum orci. Phasellus pellentesque aliquam enim. Proin dui lectus, cursus eu, mattis laoreet, viverra sit amet, quam. Curabitur vel dolor ultrices ipsum dictum tristique. Praesent vitae lacus. Ut velit enim, vestibulum non, fermentum nec, hendrerit quis, leo. Pellentesque rutrum malesuada neque.

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abercrombie model 7Phasellus felis dolor, scelerisque a, tempus eget, lobortis id, libero. Donec scelerisque leo ac risus. Praesent sit amet est. In dictum, dolor eu dictum porttitor, enim felis viverra mi, eget luctus massa purus quis odio. Etiam nulla massa, pharetra facilisis, volutpat in, imperdiet sit amet, sem. Aliquam nec erat at purus cursus interdum. Vestibulum ligula augue, bibendum accumsan, vestibulum ut, commodo a, mi. Morbi ornare gravida elit. Integer congue, augue et malesuada iaculis, ipsum dui aliquet felis, at cursus magna nisl nec elit. Donec iaculis diam a nisi accumsan viverra. Duis sed tellus et tortor vestibulum gravida. Praesent elementum elit at tellus. Curabitur metus ipsum, luctus eu, malesuada ut, tincidunt sed, diam. Donec quis mi sed magna hendrerit accumsan. Suspendisse risus nibh, ultricies eu, volutpat non, condimentum hendrerit, augue. Etiam eleifend, metus vitae adipiscing semper, mauris ipsum iaculis elit, congue gravida elit mi egestas orci. Curabitur pede.

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This one’s for the singletons.

HEY YO, it’s Friday. Friday before Christmas, and I’m Jolly as hell, if that’s possible. Because I’m so cheerful, I’ve got a treat for ya! Resident Nice Guy Matthew wrote a lil somethin’ somethin’ to warm your hearts just in time for St. Nick’s visit. Enjoy!

Being single this time of year sucks.

I’m not speaking just in terms of Christmas and New Years. I’m talking December, I’m talking winter, I’m talking when it has the potential of getting cold enough (at least here in Kansas) to make you want to wet yourself to stay warm. Maybe it would more appropriate for me to say being single from about late November to late March really sucks. However, since Christmas is merely a short number of days away let’s keep this timely shall we?
During this time of year there is one particular type of person you do not want to be; a hopeless, old-fashioned, romantic. A person like this isn’t necessarily lost between the realms of reality and fantasy. This is the type of person who holds on to the belief that if you truly want the love-story-of-all-love-stories it’s up to you to make it happen. Do you know anyone like this? If not, please allow me to introduce you to one so you aren’t lost as you continue to read on.
 
Hi. It’s a pleasure to meet you.
 
It is my most humbled opinion that around this time every year my brain becomes hard-wired for having someone special in my life. Let me paint you a [word] picture (if anything, because I studied art for nearly a decade and I would hate to let those fine-crafted skills go to waste):
 
Our Story Begins…
 
On this particular imaginary December Saturday evening it is bitterly cold and snowing. Inside of the apartment one can hear Michael Buble singing ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’; (Editor’s note: here, allow me  
…while from the kitchen two other voices can be heard laughing and singing along. While I am busy adding a secret ingredient (Rum Chata) to a couple cups of hot cocoa, [insert name of woman I should be dating] is plating our Chinese take-out. Carrying our respected dishes of the perfect “snowed in” meal we head to the living room where the fireplace has already been turned on to provide a combination of ambiance and warmth. As we both settle onto my freakishly awesome couch we begin the first Christmas movie planned for our holiday marathon.
 
Now, in the ideal situation I’ll be lucky enough to find a woman who will appreciate (tolerate) some of my unique choices in Christmas movies; such as Gremlins and Die Hard. However, other choices would consist of classics such as Holiday Inn andWhite Christmas; comedies like Christmas Vacation and Home Alone; to the more serious plot lines of Serendipity and The Family Stone. Regardless of what we watch, once we’ve finished eating she curls up in my arms and we cuddle under a fleece blanket. 
 
As the credits begin to roll on the second film I get up indicating that I’ll take the dog(s) out for a quick walk. While I’m securing my hoodie, before putting on the next layer, she begins taking care of our dinner mess because we’re awesome and believe in that teamwork thing. By the time I return she’s not only changed into some sweats, and that t-shirt of mine that looks oh-so-good on her, but she’s also poured a couple glasses of wine. Obviously no movie marathon is complete without popcorn. I remove a pot from a lower cabinet, pour in some olive oil, and switch on a burner. Don’t act so surprised that I didn’t just throw a bag into the microwave and hit the ‘popcorn’ button. You have to respect your food and make it with such respect. By the time I return to the couch I’m carrying a tub of popcorn with the perfect proportions of cheddar, and kettle corn, seasoning with a hint of melted butter. 
 
The credits are now nearly complete on the third film. The popcorn has been, more-or-less, devoured. Our wine glasses sit together, empty, on the floor. Glancing through the balcony door she notices that the snow is now tranquilly falling to the ground and recommends that we sit outside to enjoy it for a bit. I make a comment on how cold it is (below freezing). She counters by saying we can share a seat under one blanket, and bring out the remaining half-bottle of wine. I agree without hesitation.
 
The view from the balcony consists of a blanketed white landscape lit by a series of street lights running along side the street and strings of Christmas lights on neighing apartment buildings. After taking a pull from the wine bottle she nestles her head on my shoulder and hands it to me. After taking a swig myself I let out a relaxing sigh. She turns her head towards me, smiles, gives me a kiss on the neck, and lets out her own happy sigh. Four minutes total go by before she says she’s too cold and wants to go back inside.
 
At speeds that would even challenge The Flash she rushes into the apartment, slides the glass door shut and by the time I’m standing and facing the door, she locks it. Calmly standing in the cool elements I give her that “Really?” look we’re all familiar with. She stands there with the largest childish grin. It’s a great grin. How can I not like this woman? I try pleading with her. I try bribing her with promises. She doesn’t budge. At this point my ears are as red as Rudolph’s nose. Time has come to play the card that has a success rate of 83%. Puppy. Dog. Eyes. She says I’m not playing fair. This time I don’t budge until she finally cracks and unlocks the door. 
 
By the time my shoes have been removed, and I’m sliding the balcony door shut, she has found a place to sit directly in front of the fireplace. Her hand pats the ground next to her while she gives me an over-exaggerated come hither look. I point at myself pretending to ask her non-verbally, “Me?”, and look over both of my shoulders. Shrugging said shoulders, I slowly make my way over with hands deep in my pockets pretending to be extremely embarrassed but flattered. We both snicker as I sit down next to her. She looks at my still red ears and genuinely feels bad for her joke. Looking into my eyes she makes cups with both of her hands and holds them over my ears.  
 
We realize just how big of dorks we are. It works. I become lost in a trance as I watch the flicker of light from the fire reflect in her eyes. I can’t help notice just how beautiful she is. She returns with a look like she has just read my mind and knows I just called her beautiful.
 
 
Is that a vivid enough picture? 
 
This is how my mind works. That’s why is sucks to be me, during the holidays, and single. I’ll be completely honest with you and admit that it can be a bit of a downer from time to time. It isn’t a lonely feeling. I’m not lonely. I am fortunate enough to have incredible people in my life. I live in a city where I have close friends, and even family, anywhere between 5 to 25 minutes away. There are even more close friends, and again family, only a mere phone call away. Then thanks to the powers of technology there are friends who are a mere key stroke away. It would be virtually impossible, and illogical, for me to even try and convince myself that I was alone. I’m never alone. 
 
The present situation is, more or less, just frustrating. It’s frustrating because there’s so much inside that just wants to burst out. 
 
So let me say it again, being single this time of year sucks. 
 
Do I need someone in my life to make me happy, to make things feel complete? No.
 
But it sure as hell would be nice to have someone special to share all of this with. 
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It’s beginning to look a lot like…

After these last few weeks of crazy, with…well, with the crazy guy, it probably shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that I’ve taken some moments to reflect.

In these moments, I ask myself…what is it about me that seems to attract a level of crazy that’s nearly off the charts?

Why does this type of thing keep happening to me?

Were there signs in the beginning that I ignored, therefore deserve this type of treatment?

I will tell you one thing I know for sure: I am so tired.

No matter the circumstance, or how different the guy seems, or how smart, how much fun we have, whatever… it ends the same.

I clearly don’t have many, if any of the answers. And in times like these, I turn to my counselor. I asked him, what do you do? How am I supposed to give people a chance after experiences like these?

Unfortunately, he said sometimes there is no way of knowing. Other times, he said, time will show me who people really are.

Which brings me to last Saturday night. I posted a picture on Twitter of myself visiting Santa (telling him I would like Justin Bieber for Christmas, of course). A trainer at my gym (red flag?) replied, with a “Hey girl.”

The trainer, Webber, has been a friendly acquaintance since I joined the gym. He is everyone’s favorite because of his great sense of humor. I have always enjoyed taking his classes, we talk some outside of them, and I’ve even written a feature on him for the magazine (he is a professional fighter).

I’ve never thought about him in another way.

Needless to say, he got a little flirty Saturday night, eventually asking for my number. Sunday, he casually sent me a few texts, and we saw each other in the gym Monday, chatting briefly.

Monday night, however, he started texting me around 9… eventually mentioning that he wants to go ice skating…with me. It was a smooth way to ask me out without actually needing a question mark, which sort of had me flabbergasted.

It all sort of came out of nowhere. During a standard blog meeting with the gym owner, I asked him if Webber mentioned anything about me recently? Boss man (someone I would consider a friend) said Webber asked his permission to talk to me/get to know me, because he thought I was cool. Gym employees aren’t supposed to date trainers or each other. Boss said Webber was good people, I shouldn’t be afraid.

But given my past I am.

Actually I am quite terrified.

Really, the dude hasn’t asked me out, so why am I fretting? I feel like it’s coming soon, but of course, I could be wrong.

Giving people a chance has only been difficult for me sometimes… but I think even sometimes is now turning to always…

Sigh.

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Still stuck.

You probably thought since you hadn’t heard about the crazy guy, that he was out of the picture after I ignored his 32 text messages.

Oh, no. I don’t get off that easy.

Last Sunday, I went to the open mic determined not to let this one guy ruin my weekly night for myself. Upon arrival, I didn’t see him, and plopped down on a couch next to a few girls I’d met. I read my poem, and about halfway through the night, he shows up.

He found me, standing beside the couch asking me a million questions, which I answered in single word sentences. When I left, he asked me, “What are you about to get into?” I said, “My bed” and got to my car. When I got home, he sent me a text: “Hey, you never told me what you thought about my album?”

I ignored that, and went on with my week. He sent me another text Saturday about some radio interview he did. I didn’t reply.

Sunday, I went to the open mic, he was there, and when I went up to give my poem, he recorded it, and took several pictures. He tried to talk to me several points in the night, asking me what I’d been up to, what was I doing for New Year’s? I was short, and went back to my seat.

When it was his turn to get on the mic, he said the poem was about a recent disappointment.

You can probably guess what happened next.

He told everyone his side of the story—that he’s a nice guy, tired of getting screwed over, this girl says she isn’t ready, wants nothing serious, is he just a year too late to date?

Ugh. I was mortified.

I left at the end of the night, and came home to a few texts from him, of course:

Hey. I dunno what actions I partook against you to block me on FB, that sucks enough but every time I see you, you’re very COLD and standoffish. I guess you don’t want anything to do with me. That’s cool. *shrug smh. The last part of my poem was kinda about you. Thanks for the added inspiration Lucky. Godspeed.

REALLY?!?! First of all, I blocked him from Facebook weeks ago, even before the 32 message bullshit because he would like and comment and tag me in everything and it was pissing me off. Second of all, BRO, you sent me 32 fucking text messages in a single night!

Like no, I don’t purposely love being COLD and STANDOFFISH to people, but obviously I’m dealing with someone who can’t take a hint, and then when I’m honest, they can’t even handle that.

About 5 minutes after he sent the previous text, I get this:

It’s like stuff changed after Thanksgiving for no reason. Sad. (u_u)

I don’t know what that little parenthesis shit is, but I’m hunkering down for what could be another long string of texts…

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Things that terrify me.

Hey, it’s HALLOWEENER!!!!

And just because I’m a pussy and scared of pretty much everything, leading me to virtually hate this holiday, doesn’t mean you all should have to suffer. In the last few weeks, I’ve been thinking a lot about things that scare me…and it’s a long list. Some of the things are no-brainers, others are probably dumb, but it’s honest and I’m happy to share it with you.

Other than that, steer clear of the razor blade-studded apples!

Masks
Being killed in the shower
Someone looking in my window
Walking to my car
Looking in mirrors
Being murdered
Parking garages
Soggy bread
Clowns
Pitch black
Answering the door
Being car jacked
Going to the bank
Grocery shopping
Movie theatres
Going to concerts
Getting on an airplane
Mice
Spiders
My trunk
Opening my utility closet
Being approached
Movie previews

The soundtrack to Jason

Lifetime movies

Being single forever

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It’s baaaaaaaaaack!

Hello readers, and hello WORLD!

That’s right, Cocktails at Tiffanys is public again, after many months of hiding behind the curtain of password protection. It was my fault, I befriended some assholes, they found the blog, and told people about it, and it was best kept hidden for awhile. But we’re back!

Some of the posts DO have passwords, and if you want the password, email me at cocktailsattiffanys@gmail.com, prove that you’re not a hater nor my boss and you’ll get the password.

In other news, it’s Monday, which ultimately sucks ass.

I have had such a wonderful chain of weekends lately—no drama, just relaxation, and productivity. I use my weekends to workout, hit up the grocery, cook meals for the following week, get some writing done, and of course, sleep.

I’ve also loved hooking up my iPad to my TV, and listening to radio stations all around the world with the “Tune In” app. Seriously cool, it sounds like a Starbucks right in my apartment.

On Saturday, I got up, enjoyed several mugs of pumpkin spice coffee (I told you, Starbucks) and went to the gym before joining my friends at a tailgate. The group was entirely couples, which usually makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable.

However, I’m really feeling like I’m coming into my own as a single woman. I’m not ashamed. I don’t feel ugly or fat. And I find that most of the time, people are surprised to discover that I am single, which I take as a compliment.

Many of the husbands were asking me about my relationship status, and one of them said he knew of a few guys he could hook me up with. I asked him if these guys, whom he said were around the age of 24, were douche bags. He said no. I said I was game as long as they weren’t douchers.

Later, he offered me a few free tickets close to the field. I accepted them, but then realized the few friends I had were out of town… so I searched through my phone to see who might want to join me. I ended up asking one of the Cali guys, who’d never been inside the stadium, and he arrived in 10 minutes.

While him and I have never hooked up, not even kissed, we’ve had our fair share of flirtation and late night texts. I noticed he was wearing a wedding band.

“Did you get married?” I asked him.

“That just keeps evil doers away,” he said.

Hrmmm… weird. All through the game, he was on his phone, texting, and I noticed the screen saver: a picture of him and a cute-looking girl.

Meh. Regardless, it was a fun, drama-free evening at the game. Nothing wrong with that!

After all, what’s my iPad screen saver? A picture of my food truck chef crush.

Sigh.

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If this is west Nile…

Have I ever told you that I’m allergic to Mosquitos?

Whenever I get bitten by one, the bite swells up and hardens like a welt. Unfortunately, Mosquitos are drawn to me, which just makes the situation worse.

If I know I’m going to be outside, I always pack bug spray, which sometimes doesn’t help. Well, last night I met up with some friends for dinner, and we sat outside on the patio, near some bushes…bad news bears. Big time.

My legs and feet are covered. I didn’t bring my bug spray. I did, however, go homeland cover myself with caladryl and take a Benadryl. Then, I laid in my bed and waited for west nile symptoms to appear. They never did, and I drifted into a wonderful, deep sleep.

This morning, I’m pretty happy to be alive and symptom-free. I even woke up and did some exercises using my new set of resistance bands (I’m feeling chubby and very selfconscious lately, so I’ve upped my workouts) while watching episodes of Home Improvement. Have you ever worked out with resistance bands? They give a nice workout, buti couldn’t stop thinking about that scene in “so I married an axe murderer” where mike Myers is doing the thigh master while watching the news and he looses grip on the thigh master, which goes flying across the room.

Anyway, I’m back in bed now, typing this on my new iPad, which I got on vacation. After this, I’m going to move into my living room and do my Crunch yoga DVD, and then maybe have some coffe and yogurt before showering and going in to work. Because, like my boss says, I shouldn’t feel chained to my desk.

My beach vacation was very nice…much needed. I got a nice tan, read a few books while sitting on the beach, got plenty of sleep, and even enjoyed lots of delicious cocktails, despite several bartenders in forming mmy that my lisence  was expired. Of course it was.

As always, life aftervacation is brutal. I miss the beach and the abundance of hot guys, and although I’m not chained to my desk, even walking into that office just sucks. At least Friday is just around the corner…

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