On my walk to work this morning I forgot how old I was.
Am I 21? Nope. 22? Hmm. I think that was last year. . .
OMG blanks. I’m drawing blanks! How old am I?!
I had to do the math to stop freaking out.
Way to start the day off scary, Marsh.
Oh! Speaking of scary, I’ve also begun the horrendously terrifying yet ever-so-popular NYC life test of trying to find an apartment . . . in Brooklyn! I’ve wanted to make this move for a while now and it’s seriously exciting albeit daunting/nerve-racking that by October 1st (fingers crossed) I will be all packed, moved, and on my way to living in a borough that feels more like my favorite pair of sample sale cut-offs rather than that seriously X-rated spandex leotard I still can’t convince myself to wear out in public.
Read: too much sexy makes this baby go blind.