I usually like to keep myself busy on the weekends because these are the days I am reminded not only that I am single (most my friends are busy with their other halves, leaving me to fend for myself), but also that I got dumped several months ago (buzz word: several months ago).
It's Friday night, 9:49 PM. I am watching the preview channel (don't have cable), wearing no makeup (well that's nothing new), and slurping butterscotch pudding I made on the stove (has a sour aftertaste because I used almond milk instead of cow's milk).
My friend Monica is arriving tonight, staying till Wednesday. I've been counting down the days till I am going to be "busy" this weekend.
"Is it fine if I come later tonight? My aunt is shoving wine in my face," Monica texts.
"It's ok," I respond, "Come whenever."
And upon her arrival, she will find me three sheets to the wind, taking shots alone. Gotta keep my Friday night busy.
At least this time I have rancid custard to wash down the taste.
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