I’ve bought tickets to not one, but two, things this weekend, and I am already overwhelmed and exhausted with commitment.
Nothing really suggests any sort of joy exuded from either woman. And let’s be honest, I expect nothing less when it comes to being a forced subject of Paul Gauguin’s.
The man is simply intolerable.
Roy Lichtenstein really nailed my steady stream of tears scrolling through cute puppies, triple-layer cakes I can’t bake, and cute couples walking hand-in-hand before becoming swept up in a warm embrace.
Just kidding, my nails are never done, nor is my lip color! I’m charging my phone, sitting on the edge of my bed in a towel, 20 minutes behind plans, just like every other basic chick.
I need a tomato slice, or swiss and mushrooms, on this bad boy before I call it dinner, but DANG!, this looks delicious right now.
That and I’ve eaten about 4 pounds of Milky Way minis since Tuesday night…needin’ some meats!
I went to a wedding this past weekend, and I’m like, yeah, this works.
But why settle for a celebration when you can go buy a cake whenever you want?!
Me, yesterday: I’m giving up bread and cheese this week.
Me, by Friday: *elbows-deep in chicken pesto pizza*
Here’s to crushin’ goals, everyone!