Don’t mind me.
Just pretending like the catastrophe behind me doesn’t exist.
Are my eyes even still open?
Why are my work clothes still on?
If you don’t appreciate the 87 solo cups by my coffee maker, the half eaten McDonald’s cheeseburger I fed my kid for dinner or the fact that my entire collection of makeup is on my kitchen counter from “runoutthedoor” application this morning... we can’t be friends.
Nicki - Momming all the Boys