homeWell, hey there. It's Monday and I'm not really sure how I managed to make it to work on time, but I'm here and I'm just doing my best not to fall out of my desk chair. I think it's safe to say that I'm overly thankful that there's such thing as link ups for days like today so that I don't actually have to use my brain any more than absolutely necessary.
Friday night was one of those nights I really can't help but wonder why I'm not a reality star yet. While sitting at the bar next door to my apartment complex an older gentleman, probably in his 40's, who had a button down shirt on that should have been buttoned up a few more times, approached me. He mentioned that he had seen me walking my "two white dogs" around the complex and even went as far as to apologize for his Uhaul pods that were parked outside of my back door for 6 days. Then he decided we were going to be best friends and he began showing me photos of his golden doodle who he referred to as his "main lady". I have no idea what his name was but he thinks my name is Nancy, Nanc for short, and I'm pretty sure I need to start carrying pepper spray or maybe a knife when I walk my dogs.
Friday night was probably the first time I really haven't enjoyed single life.
Just kidding, this shit is awesome. Creepers or not.
Saturday I got to go on a blog date, or a "blate" as the cool kids are calling it lately, and I didn't get catfished so that was really cool. I also got to drink pina coladas on the beach which was pretty much enough to cancel out any instances of creeper strangers from the internet that I shouldn't have agreed to meet. But hey, they were actually really not creepers at all and if our blate was any indication of what all blates are like, I'm going to be doing them a lot more.
Sunday... Sunday was... well, Sunday was referred to as Blackout Sunday and we did just that. It was intense and in addition to waking up still partially feeling drunk, I also woke up with a random coozie in my purse that I don't recall obtaining. Both equally exciting things to wake up to after Blackout Sunday. My text messages, however, were not so great to wake up to. Apparently single Whitney really enjoys texting just about everyone in her phonebook after she takes a few shots. My sincere apology to those of you who received said messages, if any of you are reading this. Blame it on Nancy.
And to think, Blackout Sunday started at brunch food trucks. Seemingly innocent but looks can be deceiving says my puffy, bloodshot eyes this morning.
PS. These are red velvet pancakes and they changed my life.
And that brings me to Hangover Monday.
See you tomorrow, blogland.
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