Updated (and final) cover:
This is the last book in the series, so naturally I now have such an epic case of writers' block I doubt I will ever recover.
Despite Thursday's tummy trouble, I had a pretty good birthday weekend. Some nice dinners with the fam. I am also now officially [again] the smallest in the family, as Niecey G, who is 12, now stands at 5' 2" (a full inch taller than I am).
M came to visit me at work on Friday, and brought me a birfday card from his mother. Inside was a joint. I had no intention of smoking it because me and smokey treats is generally a bad combination.
However, we are all well aware at this point that Mich is a blithering fool who does not learn from past mistakes ever. For your entertainment, here is the conversation that took place on Friday night:
| the cat-smiley-face emojies were unintentional |
After having a cigarette outside in my American Indian handmade alpaca blanket cape, I forgot about being paranoid and M and I started complaining about a mutual friend in between some more hilarious inebriated texts. I won't post those because it's bad enough we were talking about her behind her back; I'm not going to make it worse by talking about her behind her back on the internet.
So I learned my lesson and will not be doing that again.**
*ok fine it wasn't really decades, but it felt like it
**I will most definitely be doing that again

