And I am huddled in my cold little apartment, alone. Baking cookies for--no one special. A favored owed at work. Listening to Christmas music that is only further depressing me.
The smell of cookies. The thoughts of Christmas. The independance. All things that are supposed to make me delieriousy happy.
Yes. Well. I'm not.
Someone should really take my phone away from me before I start calling old marriage proposals of days past.
And you thought DRUNK dialing was bad. You haven't seen ANYTHING yet.
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