[daydreams evaporate like vapo rub]

I need my power to laugh fully restored. To that end, I went and got Sunshine for dickbutter making, new batch new intentions new ingredients (stir the cauldron). Bad as I Used To Be came on the radio. I told her I had chosen it in the summer as a theme song for self-restoration. She listened, "Yeah as bad as I used to be!, not the chump! I was last year!" 

🤣 

says the girl who had sex "for like 7 hours" last night w a guy who looks like a young wesley snipes - who is that? - "eh (shrugs) I don't even say his name right, but he's real nice"

🤣 

there is only one HER

from the Grit class reading list:

"To do without self-respect, on the other hand, is to be an unwilling audience of one to an interminable documentary that details one's failings, both real and imagined, with fresh footage spliced in for every screening. (...) To live without self-respect is to lie awake some night, beyond the reach of warm milk, phenobarbital, and the sleeping hand on the coverlet, counting up the sins of commission and omission, the trusts betrayed, the promises subtly broken, the gifts irrevocably wasted through sloth or cowardice or carelessness. However long we postpone it, we eventually lie down alone in that notoriously uncomfortable bed, the one we make ourselves. Whether or not we sleep in it depends, of course, on whether or not we respect ourselves." On Self-Respect, Joan Didion

growing orchids in budvases