Museum I wanted to visit today was closed (fucking Mondays and museums….) so I ended up…. taking a nap. Obviously that was the only reasonable response. I don’t take naps. Ever. I avoid it at all cost, because waking up from a nap to a dark, empty apartment puts me in the most apocalyptic state of mind imaginable for no apparent reason.
So now I’m drinking a bottle of wine. Because that’s the only reasonable response.
I’m pretty sure it’s time to go back to work. I wouldn’t make a very good woman of leisure. I’d be popping pills in no time.
(And I mean that phrase in the literal sense. Although it probably wouldn’t work out very well in the figurative one, either.)
