You're seriously not supposed to break a sweat from folding towels! I need to get the fuck out of my apartment and breathe some real air. The problem is that while the real air is twenty degrees, the air inside my apartment is about ninety degrees. Why is it ninety degrees? Because my downstairs neighbor lady is roughly one million years old (give or take a year) and cranks her heat up so high that it radiates up through the floor. I've become strangely acclimated to it, even though smothering heat combined with Seattle's two and a half hours of Winter daylight makes facing the outside world seem about as appealing as brushing a dinosaur's teeth. So basically, I'm turning into a baked potato with hands and a face. I can't take it anymore. I'm gonna walk around the block! I may even go two blocks! I'm feeling crazy!!
Aaaaaaaaand there she goes. Ol' Tubby Wubberson out on her "Take that Winter, you stupid, stupid dick!" waddle around the block. She'll probably just end up at the conveyor belt sushi joint down the street again and really go for the gold like she usually does. Plate after plate of super healthy deep fried fish doused in mayo, then rolled up into salty rice with more mayo dumped all over it. Yum. The best part is that this particular chain of sushi restaurants is known for lighting their dining area up like a grow house. So, even if you tuck yourself into a private little corner, satellites in outer space can totally see you stuffing your face through the ceiling.
Wish her luck. She needs your good vibes to pull her out of her gross hermit funk. She needs you to tell her to stop referring to herself in the third person. She needs help to stop asking for help. She needs help.
xoxo
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