Just as my life usually cimplicated life has reached the apex of complication a Barista at the local starbucks has maneuvered me into purchasing the most complicated drink of my life. A double dirty grande no water soy chai. So even if I could remember that name would I eve find a common Batista to replicate it with ease? I think, like the current complication in my life, that this is an interesting new sensory experience but it is unlikely to be repeated, due to it’s complication and this is probably minorly regrettable but relieving fact. My current precarious state financially, domestically and every which-ally makes me considerably aggitated when I overthink it. That’s why I’m glad I had money on a starbucks card and a momentary escape with the Shteyngart novel set in the town I’d rathe be in if life wasn’t so precarious.

My new roommate moved to the kitchen but somehow the replacement of the common area/other half of our bedroom with a litter box and cat food, well, it doesn’t make the initial sound relief all that much of a success!
I’ve decided to write my technology-hating dad a long penned letter, yes, with envelope and stamp, explaining the shitty situation with his old friend and Buttercup Farms. Maybe he thought I was complaining by phone but this he can maybe grasp and stare at. He turns 70 today. Older than my roommate’s grandma. An aging Scorpio dragon, still hard as nails, but I should still be his little girl. At least that would be nice.


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