I know how to party

I go out to my car to leave for the airport this afternoon and my car won’t turn over. I have a push button start on my car and the radio and whatnot will come on but not the engine. So I go back upstairs grumbling the whole way. Turns out, for sure won’t start. Roomie thinks it’s the starter. Swell. So I go to the airport frustrated, grumpy, and getting hotter by the minute. Once at the airport I get lazy TSA agents. Super.

I make it to Boston with no other incidents except a bumpy flight. But I at least had the aisle to myself. I probably would’ve growled at someone had they tried to sit with me.

Not feeling like much of a partier tonight I ended up ordering room service, complete with wine.

Who says I can't party like a rockstar?

Swedish Fish courtesy of me.

Yes, my hotel room does have faux wood floors. No carpet. It’s got a very modern feel. What I’m excited about though? The Keurig mini brewer in my room in place of a mini coffee pot. I kind of want to brew a cup of decaf just because I can. But I’d rather have wine. Tomorrow I’ll have to go check out their gym. Between the wine, Swedish fish, and my room service (duck fat fries were involved–hey, my car wouldn’t start!), I’ll need a treadmill.

Now I must go snuggle down under the covers because the Boston Pops are about to play Bohemian Rhapsody and that can’t be missed.


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