I love Sundays. I say this often.
I enjoy going through my day at my own pace.
I enjoy listening to Beyonce with my dog. I'm a dog person. I talk to my dog. I look to my dog for some sort of reassurance. I prefer the company of dogs over people.
I don't like it when people ask me "what's new." Friends, nothing is ever new and you all make me feeling fucking boring when you ask me that.
Usually the day after a party I feel like vomiting. I know I just spent the previous night fluffing my life so I can feel somewhat up to par. What the fuck does that even mean?
Then I watch dog videos on youtube and get over my anxiety. I realize that I just over analyze every situation and I can't be a people pleaser.
Then I receive a text from a friend telling me about a woman who flipped her car last night and the doctors can't stop the bleeding. Her 9 year old daughter isn't aware of the situation.
Life is odd. Anxiety is overwhelming.
Sundays are my slow day.
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