Apparently I poured the topping on too soon and it just kind of sank into the pudding. So I swirled it up like marble cake and now I have hard chocolate swirls in my pudding.
Be. Jealous.
Every time I become set in my conclusion to cut off my hair this summer and donate it, I wake up the next day and it is fucking perfect. Apparently last night I fashioned my bun just right before I went to bed, because this morning I had the most perfect, soft, spiral curls falling over my shoulders. So I spent extra time putting on mascara and picking out a nice sweater to wear instead of using the time to make tea.
Right about now, I would rather have the tea. I'm tired.
And I keep having weird dreams. Last night it involved my great grandma's old house (which was recently sold as she moved into an Assisted Living home) and having to make sure we could barricade ourselves in against -something-. At the time, it was much more intricate and dramatic than I'm making it sound.
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