There's no place like home

Yes, you see the sign. God, I fucking love it here. Why did I leave again? Oh yea, something called a near nervous breakdown.

But it’s funny, as soon as I landed, and got my new cell phone number—and yes, I have the mark of the beast in my phone number, 666 is God trying to tell my something—I watched myself go back into my old habits. Walking down the street with my phone attached to my ear, not even in the city for more than six hours and already I drank half of a large carafe of wine with a friend—although, for the first time, I did get drunk under the table, God I love having lost weight—and of course, shopping and the spa.

It was weird being ‘home’, walking through my old neighborhood and feeling like I never left.

Off to the supermarket and then a run this morning to prep me for shopping today.

I turn twenty-five tomorrow. Holy fuck