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What better way to celebrate than by writing something that implies I am the first to have ever experienced this turn of events? Come on, let’s inflate our sense of self together.
When living alone, we do some pretty batshit things. The past month has been a rapid re-indoctrination into my old, strange ways. The bathroom door might as well come off its hinges. I’ve got peanut butter and wine; I’m doing JUST FINE.
Over a cup of stale coffee the next morning, with a crunchy-PB and merlot hangover, I begin to remember the significant fears of living alone. Mostly, the horrible ways I could die without anyone knowing. Without further ado, let’s start your weekend off right with a graph I like to call…
For reference, here are the habits I’ve (very quickly) remembered how to do:
What are your single lady habits (whether you’re single or not)? What are the weirdest ways you could die in your apartment? Oh, thats not a fun Friday topic? Am I the only one who thinks of these things? Cool. Ok bye.