I’m horrible at giving gifts. I don’t know what anybody wants and what a “thoughtful” gift is. If you want a card, though, I can be meaningful as fuck and write you a sonnet that will make you sob.
The other day I was sitting in a Starbucks, clacking away on my laptop while waiting for the train (OH GOD I HAVE BECOME WHAT I HATE), and some random dude next to me saw me updating this very blog.
Yes, yes yes yes. I hear the voices of the imagined peanut gallery telling me, “Nutmeg, why the fuck are you posting another Cranberry dessert. Do you know what month it is?”
I know what month it is, thank you. I know it ain’t Christmas anymore.
I’m pretty proud of myself. I woke up early the other day. That’s right, you heard it here. I woke up early! Woke up at the good hour of about 12pm. At least, that’s what I think. The earliest text I sent that day was about at 12:09pm, so I’m guessing 12-ish is correct, figuring I have to work in the time I spent playing phone app games, checking my snaps, and pining over boys who will never love me on facebook.
It’s a hard morning routine, I know, but somebody’s gotta do it.