What’s up, ladies and gentlemen! It’s embarrassing how long it took me to spell the word gentlemen. It’s Sunday night, the 9th (???) week in quarantine. How in the fuck have we been in this shit for that long? That’s absurd.
And lord fucking knows we’ll probably be stuck here for 9 more fucking weeks. My assumption at this point is that I won’t be in a bar until 2021. Anything better than that will be a pleasant surprise. I’m hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. The absolute worst. RIP 2020. I feel like it’ll be like my 21st birthday all over again the first time I get back to the bars. I mean, it’s been MONTHS since I’ve seen the inside of a bar, and it will be several more months before I do again. I don’t know how I’m gonna act.
In other news, I’ll be turning 24 in two weeks, a little less than that. I’m not necessarily freaking out due to my rapid aging, but more so freaking out that I can’t make stupid decisions in a bar based solely on the fact that it’s my day! I’m a birthday person and I won’t be able to do anything fun this year and it’s RUDE.
Thanks for listening, see yall tomorrow.
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