… started out really well.

I was ready an hour earlier than I usually begin at the office, excited to start my day camped out in front of a coffee table wearing yoga pants and my fleece blanket. Project Runway was on, but in the background and treated as white noise, and I concentrated on being productive. Which I was. Because I wanted to be productive so maybe, one day, I could make a habit of working from home. I wanted to prove that I could. For almost the whole morning I was productive with mindless data entry; the tv helped me from going batshit crazy like I occasionally do at work.

I was actually pretty proud of myself.

But then the Project Runway marathon was closer to the finalists. And friends called. And … ok, don’t get mad at this part, Internet … The Kid From Boston and I started IMing.

Fuck, I miss him. And it was a really good, really insightful conversation but I am not sure, as of yet, how much I want to share.

So I am going to go finish the work I should have done this afternoon and then get ready to go out. I love the night before Thanksgiving, as the succeeding holiday is ideal for slightly hungover. A whole day of vegging on the couch with football, booze, and food? I need no other excuse for excessive drinking tonight.

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