I took a ketamine troche and went downstairs to fix my dogs their dinner. In the middle of mixing their supplements into their kibble, the ketamine hit. I managed to put the bowls down and crawled into one of their crates.
This is the view from where I was lying in the crate.
Then I went into full K-hole that one of my dogs got so worried she squeezed herself in next to me.
We don’t fucking deserve dogs.
Planners. Yes, those things with dates and spaces to write down your list for the day. I bought this one at Barnes and Noble. Please don’t ask how much I paid for it.
The fact that Postmates delivered my iPad in less than hour from when I placed the order online. It’s so fucking genius.
Tattoos. I didn’t start getting tattoos until I was 35 years old. My first tattoo was of a poisonous flower – a pink oleander.
Then I moved on to my second one. A tribal style sea turtle with a sampaguita (Philippine National Flower). This one hurt like a bitch and took forever to heal.
Then my latest one. I took the coordinates of where I was born and the coordinates of where my husband grew up. The crazy part – the cities are sister cities. Instead of putting his name on me, I went down this route instead. It’s still permanent and even if we split up, he’s always going to be a permanent fixture in my life because I trapped him with 2 kids.
Then of course, I had to do this today…
