just because.. it's tuesday doesn't mean i'm not drinking

My day. Was. Rough. I got started before 10am, and didn’t actually sit down (other than in my car driving like a mad woman) until after 7pm. My client list for the day quite literally doubled overnight. While it’s stressful the day of, afterwards I feel really great and exhilarated how well I’m doing almost completely on my own.

At my last stop of the night, I told Kh I’d pick her up from the subway (or T if you’re a Boston local). I was about 10minutes away from her and asked if she’d mind grabbing me a bubbly water (aka seltzer, carbonated, amazingness). And maybe a sweet treat.

I’m not a big sweets eater, but (sorry to go there) I got my period raging bad last night and all I wanted was something chocolatey, a bottle of advil, a hot water bottle, and my pajamas.

I pull up to where I’m supposed to meet Kh. There she is, standing in the rain holding a bag. She gets in the car and I suspiciously eye the logo on the side of the bag. 

Do you know what that mother-licker got me? A fucking oreo ice cream cake from JP Licks aka my favorite oreo ice cream making place ever.

Holy shit do I love her. I came home, put on my pajamas, and ate a piece of it. Before dinner. I didn’t even care, and it was so good I pretty much died a little.

That was my Tuesday, and shit did it ever end on a good note. 

 
 

xo