Procrastinating on work doesn't make me a better writer.
Seriously, when the crosstown rivalry takes itself to coloured tortilla chips...
Thanksgiving has come and gone, sadly - I love me some mashed potatoes and stuffing. But better yet, Fake Boyfriend was in town this weekend on a business trip, doing, quite literally, market research, which entailed him dragging my sorry ass to way too many supermarkets on Sunday. Sunday, a day when I try not to even get out of my pajamas, let alone leave my apartment. And we were slightly hungover from the night before, oops. But! It was lovely, especially since I didn't have to pay for a single meal all weekend, and we hit all my favourites (which are now his favourites too, because of course I have excellent taste). And, smart boy that he is, we stopped working (note that there is a "we" in this working. I still don't know how I got conscripted into doing this - I think I just wasn't given any options) in time for afternoon drinks (at 3pm, but you know, any hour can be drinking hour).
And he couldn't get over how nice the weather was here, and how pretty the ocean is in November, which you know, is pretty much the only reason to live here. But - a good reason you can use to annoy people who live in places where it snows.