#taken from my porch and edited a little to get rid of some lights in the background

[ash-in-lavender]

photograph by me

[waymorecake4me]

Tsunami (Roger Taylor x Reader)

(a/n: Okay so this isn’t the deep grungy angst slowburn fic I talked about, but it is coming, I promise. But hopefully this angsty oneshot will hold ya over while I’m figuring the other thing out. Thank you so much @fluffyunicornofdanger for helping me edit this bc I’m stubborn and like to pretend I don’t need to edit hahaha and thank you for the encouragement to get back out there and write, I really mean it, you mean a lot to me. Okay on with the fic!)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Car Accidents.

Word count: 3.5k

Rain in London wasn’t exactly something to be surprised about. In fact, people were more surprised when they saw the sun. Overcast days and rain was one thing, but what seemed to be a damn tsunami was a whole other battle. One no one was prepared for.

Of course, rain had never stopped anyone in the city from doing anything, or else nothing would get done, but not even the weather forecast on Y/n’s tellie predicted what could happen on the short drive home from the grocery store.

The girl gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, getting frustrated with the harsh precipitation and the effect it was having on all the other drivers. All she had wanted was to get home and have a hot cup of tea with her boyfriend. That was all she was asking for.

“This is bollocks. You know some of us have places to be!” The woman slammed her hand down on the horn. Who had taught these people to drive? Mad Max?

Each car was either speeding and weaving around the other vehicles or they were sitting completely still, nearly parked in the middle of the street. This was not a go cart rink nor a parking lot. And y/n was not having it. It was just a little storm, not the apocalypse. So, she decided to become one with the other speed demons, stepping on the gas pedal way harder than she could recall ever doing.

Her new driving technique seemed to be working just great, as she made excellent progress, getting closer and closer to the warmth of her home. She ignored all the horns that were being honked at her, she just needed to see Roger. Well, to be honest she needed to see anything.

The speed of her driving, mixed with the weather and the rubbish windshield wipers on her tiny but mighty car allowed her to see very little. As soon as the rubber wipers would get rid of the water buildup, more would pile on. It was like a waterfall was running down her windshield.

Y/n began to get distracted by sensory overload. The honking, the rain that sounded like bullets on the metal top of her car, the straining of her eyes, and all the other cars racing through, she couldn’t quite see the traffic light in front of her.

The storm had reached its peak and the wind was roaring. The shit wipers that helped her see just a tiny bit had given up the battle against mother nature and stopped completely, so the girl was sitting at this traffic light, heart pounding from the inability to see anything.

Just one stretch away from reaching her shared flat with her boyfriend snuggly inside, she had actually believed she was two blocks away.

Everything she was doing was going off of instinct. She knew the streets of London like the back of her hand but when you don’t even know where you are and are blinded by harsh lights and noises, you get a bit disoriented. So, believing she was at the light two blocks away, instead of just one, she counted down the exact seconds for how long that specific light took to turn green and when she got to one, she floored it. Pedal to the metal.

What she thought was just a flash of lightning from the storm hit her, she sighed the tiniest bit of relief, from believing she had made it across the proper street, but that went away and turned to a gasp that burned her lungs as she heard the loudest and longest honk she had heard all evening, and suddenly, her vehicle was flipped on its side 4 times, hurling the girl and the car into somebody’s front yard.

Everything seemed to go in slow motion, yet in super speed at the same time. She felt an unbearable pain in her right side and then her head smashed into her driver side window, her skull bouncing back and then falling forward to hit her steering wheel. Hard.

Screaming and honking ensued. A man wearing a baseball cap rushed out of his double-decker bus, which had taken little to no damage. But he wasn’t worried about his bus, “She came out of nowhere! I-I was just driving forward an-and then she… she-”

He had a look of horror on his face, as well as everyone else in the area. People stopped driving and stepped out of their cars, completely frozen at the sight of the wreckage. The owner of the house she had crashed into ran outside as did everyone else living on the street. When an accident happens in a neighborhood in the city of London, everyone was a rubbernecker.

“What are we all doing staring?! One of you, call a bloody ambulance!” Someone from a car shouted.

Many of the homeowners ran inside to dial 999, but some were still frozen in fear. That saying about how you can’t take your eyes off of a car wreck? It was proving itself to be true.

---

Roger had been asleep when the crash had happened, but the sound of a car tumbling, screaming, and then the blaring sirens of an ambulance in his neighborhood surely woke him up.

As everyone had been already doing, Roger joined in on the bandwagon and stood on the front porch of his and his girlfriend’s flat, to stay out of the rain.

He couldn’t quite make out what the car or the driver had gone through since the ambulance was blocking his view of anything but judging from the faces of people who were watching from the street and the fact that the police had the whole bloody road blocked off, it had to be bad.

He quietly watched with a curious eye as the unidentifiable person was hiked up into the ambulance on a gurney, they had a breathing mask over the person’s face. Thoughts of his girlfriend crossed his mind, as a couple hours had gone by since she had left for the store, but since the road was blocked off, she probably had to take some back roads and would be there any minute. He wouldn’t want her to have to see something like this anyways, it was petrifying.

The EMTs made quick work of slamming the truck doors after hopping inside, and the vehicle was speeding away in no time towards the nearest hospital.

Now Roger could kind of make out the damage that had been done to the car. It was flipped over, resting completely upside down. And… though he certainly didn’t have anything close to the best eyesight ever… he knew that car. And when he saw how bashed in the drivers side door was and the fact that the bloody thing was UPSIDE DOWN, his heart sank. Lower than humanly possible. His heart was probably 6 feet under.

No shoes, no socks, no shirt, only boxers on, Roger ran from his front porch, down the street, in the pouring rain, hoping, just hoping that somehow his eyes had been mistaken.

They weren’t. The license plate was that of his girlfriend of 4 years, Y/n.

Roger liked to keep up appearances. He liked to be known in the media as a rough, grungy, don’t take him home to mama kind of guy, but he didn’t care. He physically and mentally couldn’t care. He looked at all the damage to the car and fell to his knees, letting out a choked sob. How could she bounce back from this? How could she even survive this?

He was knelt down right next to the upside down driver side of the car, his hands reaching inside, shakily to grab at the Polaroid of the two of them that he knew was tucked inside the sun visor. One look, and he was putty. She was in god knows what physical condition on her way to probably ICU, by the looks of the car, and all he could do was look at this photograph and cry.

“Sir, we’re gonna need for you to stand up and step awa-” A police officer tapped on his shoulder but immediately had his hand swatted away by the blond on the ground.

“I’ll bloody hell get up and step away when I want,” Roger gritted his teeth, not looking at the officer, probably not even realizing it was an officer because all he could do was look back and forth between the picture and the car.

“Sir, I’m going to ask you one more time, nicely. We need to take this car to the pound.”

The officer was then met with a red face, red eyed Roger, photo in hand, “Do you see this? Do you know who that is? That’s my girlfriend and this is her car,” he gestured at the girl in the photo and then to the hunk of metal that was once called a car, “and I live FOUR doors down and I didn’t find out about this until just now.”

The police officer may have been taller than Roger, but in that moment, Roger was about as unstable and explosive as an atom bomb. To be quite honest, the large policeman was a bit intimidated by him, understandably so, “I-I’m sorry, sir-”

“Just tell me where they’ve taken her,” Roger tried to tough it out and stop crying but it was no use, “Which hospital?”

The now, very sorry man, barely had time to utter the name of the hospital to the sobbing mess before Roger rushed back to his flat, put on a pair of pants and a coat, slipped on a pair of shoes and lunged his way into his car, driving like a mad man to get to the hospital.

---

“Hello? Miss? Can you hear me?”

“She’s got lacerations on her head and torso, appears to be concussed, doctor.”

“Some sort of leg fracture, I can’t be sure.”

“Dark bruising on her head, can we get a little help here? I need a monitor, can someone please get me a heart monitor?”

All of these voices danced in and out of Y/n’s head, not quite sure if they were coming from just one person, or twenty.

She had no idea where she was, all she knew was that her head felt funny and her whole body stung and ached. She could just barely open her left eye as the other was nearly swollen completely shut.

“Doctor, she’s awake,” A nurse pointed out, frantically. Everything seemed frantic, “Miss, do you know your name or where you are?”

Y/n couldn’t speak. Her throat was dry and hoarse and she really didn’t know where she was or what had happened. She was in too much shock, physically, and overloaded, mentally to speak. All she could do was try to look around with her one good eye, but everything was so bright and blurry.

“We’re going to get you into a room for a physical examination before we take you back for surgery, alright?”

Surgery? Had Y/n heard this woman correctly? Her ears may have been ringing but she knew she heard the word surgery and Y/n certainly didn’t need surgery. She fought the pain with everything she could and tried to sit up, “No… no…” Only to be pushed down by the same nurse.

“Ma’am, your injuries are intense, please don’t move, it’ll only make things worse. Let us get you to a room.”

Y/n felt the sharpest of pains in her head from her little fit, realizing that the nurse was right, she gave in and laid back down, an electric shock feeling going from her right shoulder, down to her toes, “Fucking hell,” she mumbled in her hoarse voice.

The girl did her best to stay awake, although the sweet embrace of sleep was calling to her constantly.

---

Roger arrived at the hospital looking like a hot mess. Sprinting up to the front desk, with very little breath left from running there from his car, which conveniently was parked at the back of the lot, due to a full parking deck. “I need to see my girlfriend,” he panted out, “car accident, just about 20 minutes ago.”

The receptionist looked at him a bit funny, seeing as he was soaking wet, wearing pajama pants, a leather jacket with no shirt underneath, and two completely different shoes, but searched the database anyways, “Name?”

“H-her name is Y/n L/n. Look, it’s very recent, she probably was just rushed through here-” He got cut off, making him more agitated, if that was even possible.

“She is in an isolated room right now being examined, you can sit in the waiting room until she can have visitors.”

Roger didn’t like that answer. He didn’t like it one bit. You could practically see the gears in his brain turning and then lighting on fire. His ocean blue eyes rolled at the woman, “And when exactly would that be?”

“Sir, I don’t have that information yet, but I will let you know as soon as I do,” She tried to reason with him. It’s not like he’s the first loved one to freak out, she dealt with it all the time, but something told her that this might just be a new experience for her.

---

“Motherfucker!” Y/n screamed out as she was being poked and prodded by the doctor. He was only doing his job, finding out what exactly was going on inside her body. It seemed her head and her right arm had taken the hardest blows.

“This is going to hurt, I’m sorry,” He whispered as he grabbed her right arm and tried to bend it at the elbow, which only resulted in another yelp of pain, “Could you bend it on your own?”

She was definitely fully conscious now, only because of the painful, necessary, yet painful testing she was going through, “If you couldn’t bend it for me, what makes you think I can do it on my own?” She mumbled, her face scrunched up from all the pain.

The doctor chuckled at her mental vigor, “You may be concussed but you’ve got a lot of fight in you,” He then turned to a nurse, “I’m thinking we might need to do multiple x-rays.”

---

“Okay but could you at least go and check?” Roger asked the receptionist for probably the 50th time, and to say it was getting on her nerves would be putting it lightly.

She got up from her swivel chair and waved the blond man off, dismissively and clearly irritated, and walked into some hidden room, leaving Roger to sit down with his own thoughts in the waiting area.

His anger had been fueling all of this but it hadn’t hit him since his breakdown at the crash site that he was, in fact, sitting in a hospital, waiting to find out if his girlfriend was even alive. Never in a million years would he think that this could happen, and he was pretty sure that he wasn’t alone on that thought. Nobody ever thinks that something so traumatic could happen to you or someone you care about but once it does happen… it gets real.

Roger had been thinking about everything and nothing at the same time for some time now, when the woman he was about to go into fist to fist combat with returned with a hand on his shoulder, “Room 317. I’ve been informed to warn you, though, it’s not great. But she is okay.”

His head shot up and without even thinking, or thanking the woman for that matter, he walked to the elevator. He pressed the button to go up with a blank expression on his face.

What was he supposed to feel? Sure, she’s alive, but what had “it’s not great” meant? Should he feel happy? Relieved? Or devastated?

Much like the accident itself, everything was in slow motion for him. The elevator just couldn’t move fast enough. But once it had and the doors opened, he was on a mission. Roger didn’t care if she had lost all her limbs, he had to see her. He had finally found someone he could call the love of his life and she was laying in a hospital bed alone, and he would not be having any of that.

“314,” He counted out loud, heart racing as he walked, “315, 316…” He slowed down, seeing the door was already open, just cracked slightly. His nerves were making him shake uncontrollably but he grabbed the Polaroid from the car, out of his pocket and gripped it tight, in hopes that it would give him some sort of ungodly strength, “317.”

Roger grasped the door knob and knocked on the door with the other, except there was no point to the knock, seeing as he was already entering. “Y/n?” He whispered quietly.

He heard sort of a moan in return that made his knees buckle, it wasn’t the type of moan he liked to hear from her, quite the opposite. A moan of pain that he had never heard come from her in his entire 4 years of knowing the girl.

Roger slowly walked into the room, as not to scare his girlfriend, but in reality, he was probably trying not to scare himself from whatever he was going to find behind that curtain. That fucking curtain. He pulled it back slowly, finding Y/n with bruises all over, some minor cuts on her body, but one large one on her forehead, her right eye was swollen to hell, and the doctors had put her right arm in a temporary soft cast and a sling. Hair frizzy and scattered across the pillow, but she still looked like herself. Roger let out a sigh of relief. That breath had probably been held up inside of him from the moment he was in the elevator.

“Rog?” Her voice was raspy and quiet but he heard her and rushed to her side.

“Yes, love? Are you okay? Do you need anything? A pillow? Some water-” His frantic nature was justifiable, considering the night they had both had, but she seemed to have another concern.

Y/n tilted her head to the side to look at him, still only able to see with her left eye, “I think the ice cream from the store will have melted by the time we get home.”

Roger let out a relieved chuckle, “We can always get more ice cream, my sweet. All I care about is that you’re okay.” He didn’t want to move her arm to touch her so he leaned down and kissed her hand, which made her frown a tad.

“You can touch me, Rog, I’m not made of paper,” A twinge of sadness could be heard in her voice, “plus they’ve given me some A grade drugs so I feel a bit better.” She tried to giggle but ended up coughing in the end.

Albeit nervous, he grabbed her left hand and kissed her knuckles, then various kisses up her unbroken arm, and lastly he landed a kiss straight on her lips. A chaste kiss, but a sweet one, nonetheless, “I thought I was going to lose you,” he hovered above her lips, taking in the features of her face, the right side was far more beaten up than the left, but he could still see her underneath it all. For better or for worse, right? Or was that only with marriage? Not that he didn’t see it in their future, but in a hospital room after a car crash wasn’t exactly the romantic proposal he imagined.

“It’s gonna take a lot more than a double-decker bus to kill me off, Taylor.”

They both laughed a much, much needed laugh. “I love you, you know that?” He had been brushing all of her y/h/c locks to the side, making her look more like herself and less like someone who had been struck by lightning.

Y/n hummed in response and leaned into his hand, “How on earth are we going to deal with this shit?” She would have gestured down to her broken body if she could’ve but instead she just looked downwards at herself.

He shushed her and continued petting her hair, lovingly, “Don’t worry about that, love, we’ll manage, I promise,” He was acting stronger than before but he couldn’t help it if a tear or two fell from his eyes, “I’m going to take care of you, okay? We’ll get a new car, I’ll help you bathe, it’ll be fine, you just need to focus on feeling better and healing.”

The girl nodded groggily and smiled faintly, “Okay. But make sure you get some more ice cream, it was quite expensive.”

He realized the drugs were kicking in and making her sleepy so he just smiled to himself and snuggled into her neck, “I’ll get you all the ice cream you want.”

He stayed like that for a while, by her side, letting her rest, but all that aside, once she was better, he was never going to let her live this drugged up ice cream fiasco down.

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

Missing Her

A preview of something I’ve been working on...

I wanted to post this full fic tonight, but I gotta go to bed. So, here is a little snippet of a piece I have been working on for @adoptdontshoppets , inspired by the song Missing You by John Waite and the two gifs below. 

*Gifs not mine, credit to owners / Not edited yet, all mistakes are mine.

The phone started ringing for the third time that night. It wasn’t a number you recognized, and they didn’t leave a message which was an instant red flag. The biggest red flag, however, was that it wasn’t the burner phone that Ellen gave you. That was the only one that would ring this time of night, which meant it couldn’t an emergency. It finally stopped after about seven rings, but when it immediately started up again, you were angry. Who the hell would be calling you in the middle of the night, and on the landline no less.

You grabbed the receiver and took a breath before barking into it. “What?!”

Silence.

“Listen, fuckface, if you call here aga—”

“Y/N,” he said, and your heart stopped. That voice was familiar, and not the kind that whips up a nice dose of nostalgia. This was the kind of familiar that makes ice run through your veins and elicits a frenzy of fear of what it could mean.

It couldn’t be.

“Y/N? Its Sam. Sam Winchester.”

Holy shit. Why… why now? It had been years since you last heard his voice. He knew not to call, he promised he wouldn’t. He promised he would leave you be…

“Sam…” you didn’t know what else you could say. Sitting up in your bed, you leaned over and clicked on the lamp. “What, uh, what do you want?”

“It’s Dean. He’s in trouble and… I don’t—” he paused, and you could feel the desperation and weight of his sigh through the receiver, “I wanna tell him. I want YOU to tell him. Maybe… maybe this will be the thing that saves him.”

Your heart stopped and climbed up into your throat. The lump that it formed there felt permanent and you began to panic.

“Tell him? Why? What good would that serve, Sam? No. I can’t—I won’t.”

You slammed down the receiver and exhaled a rush of breath. How fucking dare, he? Fucking Winchesters… running your hands nervously through your hair, you kicked off the covers and began pacing the room, fingers still apprehensively pulling at the tendrils around your face. The last time you talked to one of them, it hadn’t ended well.

“Dean’s in trouble… how the HELL is that my problem? I did what I was asked... played my part, why is Sam calling me now?”

You continued mumbling to yourself, going over the history you shared with the Winchesters. Those damn men, all three of them had turned your life upside down at one point. You missed Dean, though. You didn’t want to send him away, but you had to. Guilt ate at you every day for what you had done, but it was necessary… wasn’t it?

Dean… God I miss him… you thought to yourself like you did more often than not.

You sighed and rested your head against the headboard. Your hand absently went to the empty side of your bed and mindlessly rubbed at the spot where he could have been—SHOULD have been, had John not interfered. You shook your head to rid yourself of John’s face and the way it looked that night he stood on the porch. Pitch black around him, except for the yellowed porch light that illuminated his deeply-rigid scowl. Your stomach was swimming in rough seas, the nausea was intense, and John’s demands were only making it worse.

A brief flashback to happier times entrenched itself in your mind. It was a different house, a different bed, but Dean was there. He had been young, charming as hell and beautiful. The stranger with the green eyes who bore the hands of an angel and the smile of the devil, had somehow wormed his way into your bed and then stayed for a while.

It was the longest you’d ever spent with anyone; same for him, so he said. Sex, late night talks, and midnight drives just for tacos while Zeppelin blared through the speakers… it all came back. You squeezed your eyes tighter when your memory saw him sitting behind the wheel of your old Camaro; smiling as he sang along with radio and sliding his hand up your thigh.

It was a fling that you didn’t think would mean much. Certainly, you never thought it would change your life the way it had. Your heart ached for that time back. Your logically thinking brain was angry at you for even giving Dean Winchester a second thought, but if you were going to be honest, he was always sort of there, wasn’t he?

The phone began ringing again, and when you picked up the receiver, you didn’t bother with the greeting.

“Y/N… please. I know its been a long time and I have no right to ask… but my brother, he—he’s gonna die. And—”

“Wait, what? Sam. What the hell is going on? Is he sick? Or is this… a Winchester thing? If so, what in the world do you think I can do to fix it?”

“He’s not sick and I don’t know if you can do anything. I do know that I have exhausted every possibility, and nothing has worked. You’re my last resort and his time is running out.”

“What did he do?”

“He sold his soul to save me.”

“Jesus,” you lamented and rubbed at your eyes. “How long does he have?”

“A month. We’ve tried everything, but its like, he doesn’t care if he dies. He’s stopped trying. I can’t lose him, Y/N. I thought maybe, if he knew the truth, he’d fight harder.”

“Sam,” you started, then paused. “I don’t…” you sighed and resigned yourself to the fact that if you didn’t try, you’d regret it, along with everything else, for the rest of your life. “Where are you guys?”

“Right now, South Dakota. But we could be there—”

“No. No, you can’t come here. Not yet. Meet halfway, that’s what I can offer you right now.”

“Really? Yes, that would be great,” he cut off quickly and you could hear the rustling of fabric then silence for a good minute before he came back on the line.

“He doesn’t know you called, does he?”

“No. He’d be pissed.”

“What about your father? What does he say about all this?”

“He’s dead.”

You sat up straighter in the bed at the genuine shock of what Sam just said. “John’s dead?”

“Yeah, about two years now. But, look, I know there’s a messed-up history here, and you tend get the crap end of this deal, but if you’re really willing to meet up—”

“I am. Give me a day, I need to take care of a few things. Take down this number, you can get me on there tomorrow and we can pick a place.”

“Y/N, thank you. Um, how… how is…?”

“She’s fine, Sam. Now, get a pen and write this down.”

You gave Sam your cell number and he thanked you for agreeing to come. You hung up quickly after that, not wanting to give him more time to ask more questions about things you didn’t want to talk about.

Once you hung up, you let your body slide back down so your head was on the pillow. Seeing Dean again wasn’t going to be easy. Pretty fucking hard, in fact. You didn’t part ways on good terms, and when he finally walked away from you it was with angry words and more than a few tears. It was unfortunate, but necessary. It didn’t change your feelings for Dean though; not back then and not now.

The next day, you had taken care of the necessary arrangements and loaded up the car with a few necessary items. The cell came to life as you were gassing up and figured it was Sam. Not a call, but a text…

 Branson… tomorrow afternoon? Told him we have a job there.

Yeah ok. Where?

I’ll text you when we get in town

           Ok. See you then.

 Starting up the car, you maneuvered it back onto the highway and put some miles under the wheels. With each one that passed beneath you, you felt your chest tighten a little more at the idea of seeing Dean. When you tried to figure out how to explain everything, you thought you may have to pull over and throw up.

[defunctblogtobedeleted]

8/9/19 12:34 AM the super update. aka get your shit together Endgame post 1/?

Well. Here I am. It’s hard to even approach this post, to be honest. I’ve been procrastinating for so long. So long that it’s actually the last real thing I have left on my to do list.

Check this out.

I’ve been working hard at doing things lately. And catching up with you is basically the last thing left to do.

I finally spring cleaned all of my clothes and got rid of a ton of stuff that didn’t fit one way or another. 

I started playing guitar again.

I got my shit together with my job, got a bunch of online credits that I’d been procrastinating on. Started doing all the possible work I could every night to make my boss happy and it’s been making me a fuckton more money tbh. 

I’ve bought a bunch of cool shit, and been treating myself right with my food. I gained a bunch of weight back during the past year during my relationship with Andi. It’s not a terrible thing, I was treating myself. She convinced me that I deserved to treat myself and enjoy myself and that’s not a bad thing. But now I’m doing what I call Keto+, which is Keto+Beer lmfao.

I’m still going out drinking whenever I want, but for my meals I’ve stopped eating breads and rice and pasta, mostly just eating chipotle (just graduated to doing salads instead of bowls with light rice, though I wasn’t eating the rice just a bite here and there), sashimi from Hmart, lately once in a while a five guys lettuce wrap burger, back to doing salami and mozzarella at home. 

I’ve taken to fasting once a week on my thursday night shift (tonight), to try to accelerate the weight loss, but it’s not like my pov diets before because I’m still eating nuts.

It’s been a progression of increasing the amount I’ve been running (from one day to two days, to usually two maybe three days a week now, and the distance is a lot longer now), and cutting off more and more little cheats. E.g. the biggest was finally embracing sparkling waters instead of gatorade. I finally got to try Spindrift off a recommendation from a magic the gathering podcast, and it’s incredible. Only like 3 calories a can and it actually tastes good from the real juice and not bitter in the aftertaste. 

But anyway, I’ve got plenty of money now. My debts are paid, I’m ahead on bills, I’ve got all the sweet clothes I wanted, so I finally made the call last week.

It’s time to fix my car’s bumper. I’ll try to remember to get one last picture of lexi before I fix her broken front tooth.

Do you know what that means?

It’s the Endgame.

The Get Your Shit Together List I put together years ago... well let’s take a look at what’s left of it. The sad thing about digital to do lists is you don’t see the progression though. Wish I knew what was on there. I think a lot of it was losing weight, but I skipped the whole being healthy part before.

God damn, man.

Doc last edited Oct 2, 2018. I guess I started writing this plan out Jan 2017. I think my biggest priorities then were to cut down spending and pay off my debts. 

I never started exfoliating lol. I wonder if I should do that for my nose.

I didn’t give ashleigh her plane credit part because fuckit. I did end up using mine though, to take that trip to Hawaii to visit John. Pretty fucking baller. I guess that was another big step towards getting my shit together, too.

Quit melee, but now I’ve been playing again playing jigglypuff just to hang out with my roommates. It’s really neat not grinding falco, even though I lose a lot the game’s a lot more fun again.

OH MY GOD THOSE BLUE STORAGE CUBES. When I fucking talked about spring cleaning clothes? THATS what I meant. I’ve literally had this shit on my to do list for two YEARS hahahahah. About goddamn time. Holy fuck.

Got my deviated septum fixed, didn’t cost nearly that much thank the lawd.

Just went to the dentist, my teeth are doing great. Ironically they mentioned that I need to consider replacing one of the fillings that I mention getting here eventually. 

I did finally get a new laptop and backup the old one, uploaded that info to throw it out about two weeks ago. 

Actually got sweet ass new shoes booya checkem

I’m not vaping anymore, the whole juul pod fad never hit me. I’m doing cigarettes still, for better or for worse. Lol. I’ll take the cancer I know over the one I don’t.

But it’s better than I was when I was writing this list, I used to have to smoke one every single day after work. Maybe that was because I was hungry, but it was always this poignant craving on the back porch that I remember. Now I just like smoking when I drink mostly, but have the occasional one to chat with people or whatever.

Playing guitar again, not frequently, might start at work more since I’m playing the electric since I don’t have an acoustic available. Maybe I’ll even learn these songs. Playing guitar is great though, I kinda wanna be in a band sometime. That’d be fucking neat. Someone invited me to sing for his drunkenly at karaoke lol I should hit him up it’s been a minute. 

Got my nintendo switch, which I think was so far out of consideration that I deleted it from the fun stuff section. 

Who’d have thought I’d ACTUALLY start running and drinking water more. I guess I’m the greatest lmao.

Yeah man, like 15 pounds over the past 2 months. I think a lot of it was easy food weight, but it’s felt really rewarding all the same. Gotta keep it up, this 175 hurdle has been a tough nut to crack, but I’m gonna be really proud of myself once I get into the 160s territory again. I’m doing pullups slightly more, maybe I need to do the whole situps-pushups-pullups regimen right before/after running to really push it. Idk, i’m just glad i’m being good about it.

I’m even flossing once a week now.

Things are really shaping up. 

But with money in my bank account there are three options that I have.

1. Save it by buying stocks

2. Blow it by buying a bunch of dumb shit

3. Finish off the to do list and actually get my bumper fixed.

I wanted to ignore 3 because it feels like a dumb expense for a minor aesthetic, but I guess in view of all these things I’ve accomplished it really does mean quite a bit more than that. So I made a claim on a ding on the side of my car and I’m gonna see if I can get it all fixed up. I’ve actually taken on a few extra days of work lately and made even MORE extra money, so I don’t think it should knock me back financially at all. Which means that it’s time. 

I’m finally doing it.

It feels really cool. I’m a little bit anxious about it in the sense that it’s gonna be annoying if they deny me getting the bumper fixed because of the collision damage that I never reported. But whatever we’ll cross that bridge in a few weeks when I get the damage inspected and see what happens.

This has been my brag post. Hope you were able to tolerate it all. But that’s only the first phase of catching up. It’s only been a half hour of writing! I’ve got a lot of time left at work tonight and I might even spend a lot of this weekend at Darlin’s catching up if I have to. Catching up with this blog is as big a part of getting my shit together as scheduling my appointment with the car insurance was.

So what I mean to say is we’re gonna catch all the way through my greensboro days up to now. I have some saucy tales and some not-so-saucy ones. I’ve got a full relationship to blab about, and honestly one thing that I had promised her and was on a bunch of my old to do lists was to do like a whole pro-con listing about her persona, which felt weird and I kept procrastinating on but god dammit I’m gonna get everything off my to do lists. 

So I looked back a little and it looks like the last posts I made were about sally, Becky,  whatever the hell my dealings with Taylor were, and the beginnings of Mary. Which means that we’re gonna flesh out Mary, and then you’ve got Sophie, Rachel, Olivia, Andi, Jennifer, Heather, and Jill to look forward to.  Whew baby.