Ode To Late Night Thought Processes

All the things I haven’t done could fill a book. Millions of books. They have. I should read one. 

But all I want to read is Anansi Boys over and over and over. That lime. Seriously, best proposal ever. 

I don’t want an engagement ring. I want to be offered a lime after karaoke.

It would be weird to get engaged. Probably involves way too much eye contact and seriousness. Like a mariachi band but you don’t get to laugh when he plays Another Brick in The Wall. 

I really hate getting sung to. Or at. Would a proposal be like that? I’m not sure I would know where to look.    

My sister will probably get engaged first. Then I can grill her. Will she be a terrifying bride? Do accountants make really logical brides? I hope so. If not, I would be a terrible choice for maid of honor. 

What if I’m not maid of honor? What if she chooses someone else? She wouldn’t. I’ve got years on that one. Maybe. Mom got married young.

Man mom and dad had cute wedding photos. Mom doesn’t think so, but she looks like wedding Barbie in them. 

I sold my Barbies on Ebay in its heyday. Do they miss me? No. I was terrible to them. Especially that really 90s Skipper. But I just wanted to fix her hair. I didn’t know it was supposed to be crimped. 

Why was crimped hair a thing? I actively fight against my hair’s natural frizz. I can do a little to it when it’s down but it never looks sleek and professional while pulled up. 

Am I ever going to get a job? Seven eighths of a Computer Science degree and still not qualified for anything. But school’s more all or nothing. 

I have school tomorrow. Crap, is it that late?!

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