Currently typing this in an obscure cafe in the John Hancock tower. What am I sipping? Something orange called a "90 Calories Mix, all-natural, lean performance protein shake." Not a great start. Then I look at my iPod and see the last song played was from Smith-Westerns. Yikes. I'm also eating a yogurt cup and the jeans I'm wearing aren't exactly skinny but they're also not 2004 loose/hanging off my ass. Did I mention I didn't put shampoo in my hair so I'm a straight up hot mess. I don't like it. See ya on friday, Burlington. I'm coming for your ass.
P.S. a chick just walked by the window and she had the dopest pooper ever. 27 year old career gals are my fucking kryptonite.
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