I miss being 18, getting dressed up on a wim and going out to party.
I miss not having so much to do that I can't act on my impulses and have to make lists just so I don't make someone angry with me for forgetting.
I miss last year. It was so calm. So peaceful. So boring and normal and fantastic.
Blah.
One Good Note:
Dear London,
I'm coming after you
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Comments 1
And now I look for the boring, and everyime I find it, I have work that I should be doing instead.
The point is: it'll work out when it works out.
Let's start a Boring Fanclub.
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