Did you lose your keys?...

I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I had a great day at work. I even only "almost" had a panic attack. I was pretty stressed out this morning because I had about 4 hours of meetings in my calendar, and more than 8 hours of work to do, which wasn't going to happen because of all those damn meetings.

But by the end of the day I thought, hey having meetings all day is way more fun than sitting alone at your desk working and having panic attacks. And I had pickles for lunch. So it was a good day all around. I was waiting for the elevator after popping in briefly at home to sit in the sun, read a chapter of my book and eat pickles. As I was waiting, the elevator door opened and Krista was on the other side and we both screamed because it's so weird to ever run into anyone in my apartment building. Seriously, I have been living here for over 2 years and I've never once ran into anyone in the laundry room. Ever. But that's probably because the basement is creepy and all my neighbours have bad hygiene. I know what you're thinking. Why don't you and Krista just put down the glass of wine, get off your lazy asses and take the stairs down the whole two flights? Because we're fabulous, that's why. And our cats are so demanding, we're just exhausted. And we might spill our glasses of wine.

I'm coming to the end of my newest favorite book ever, so I'm distracting myself from reading it (or doing my homework) by writing yet another blog. I've come to the realization that the more I write, the more people read it (d-uh) and I'm getting pretty obsessed with the idea of having 10,000 reads on here. (Now I've probably just jinxed it. Eff. I'll get to 9,999 one of these days, soon I think, and then it will all just end. I'll check it every day and it will say 9,999 for ETERNITY.)

So I was cleaning my apartment the other day, with greater intensity than usual because the last time I cleaned my apartment Lindsay came over and she kept walking around in awe saying things like, "Margaux your apartment is SO CLEAN. Margaux, LOOK at your bathroom!". And that's a lot of pressure to live up to, not having a cleaning lady and being lazy and all. Anyways, as I was cleaning, under my bed I found...a set of keys. I had to sit down for a minute. Sadly, my first thought was not "Am I a slut?", it was "Jesus. I know I'm bad at dating, but seriously?". I knew who they belonged to, and I knew he stopped calling me, but he didn't even come back. For. His. Keys. And then I was imagining him, walking home in the freezing cold, his beautiful, shiny long-ish hair blowing in the wind, and he gets to his front door, and he's like "Shit. Where are my keys?...Oh, they must be at Margaux's. But I am not going back there. Ever. That bitch is crazy." And then he becomes a homeless person. And possibly gets his phone stolen. (Nope, that was another guy. Maybe I am a slut.)

I'm not even sure how to end this blog. Except to say, some days a really good day is exactly what you needed. Thank you Tuesday for comin' through.