Everyone has at least one absurd dream and mine is that some day, I want to be sipping champagne at a fancy soirée when I glance up and spy a painting from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum heist above the mantle
Some days I stare at my half-completed thesis chapter for hours, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a whole sentence.
And some days I spend twelve hours word-vomiting onto my document and end up with a nine page discussion section.
I don’t think I’ve ever heard my 2nd floor neighbor’s music, but for whatever reason just now he blasted Gotye’s Somebody That I Used to Know and like that was it. Just that one song and done.
Sending good vibes your way, neighbor.
It’s Friday night and currently I am splayed out on the sofa, irrationally upset that I cannot find the apparently obscure stripped-down version of Secondhand Serenade’s Your Call that limewire gifted me in middle school anywhere on the internet