In one night, I am almost 1/6th the way to a month's riding come February. You probably did the math right.

9 hours at work. I hate weddings, especially insane ones where courses are spread out over eight hours. I like my supervisors, who let me go home when they realized I had 3 hours of sleep, and had to get up early to work again tomorrow- my *favorite* day (sarcasm heavy), Sunday Brunch.

Hopefully tomorrow doesn't make me want to give up my dream of being a pastry chef, like last Sunday did.

I'm tired. I'm going to bed.

And I have a new "work-friend" who's planning to have 300-400 people at her 17th birthday party, which she will be renting out one of the most expensive halls in the area. She has yet to choose.

Makes one feel poorer than dirt. But in a happy, cheerful way.

Absolutely divine.


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