Because of course my brother overslept and instead of arriving at my house to pick me up at 10am he has just now woken up upon me calling him, I am forced to fart around for a couple hours. Which is fine because I could watch Jemaine Clement all day.
We're driving home today. Along with everyone else in the world. I'm excited to see my parents and old friends, but it always feels funny going home, which is probably good because it means I'm finally seeing Atlanta as my "home." I often slip up and refer to it as such sometimes, which is strange for a girl who spent her entire childhood in one city and will always think of it as home.
Anywho, after 2 glasses of Indiana church wine, some chardonnay, and a rum-and-flat-coke last night, I should sleep pretty soundly in the back of my bro's cramped Civic, all the while dreaming of Catch Phrase coming at my face in slow motion.
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