Work work work.
Clean old apartment out.
Old roomie reappeared. She lives! Who knew?
I wrote a terrible poem.
My skin is peeling. I feel horrid.
Am skinnier, however! Workouts are working!
Tried on bridesmaid dresses for A.
I feel conflicted.
The words I should say are on the tip of my tongue, but they don't come out. I choke 'em down, unwilling to put myself out there.
And tomorrow is Friday, and I do a walkthrough, and I can be done with the old apartment and one timesuck ended.
As I was loading the car, my former next-door neighbors offered me a hit. Fragrant stuff.
Moisturize and bed, I think. An excellent combination.
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