Sleep When You’re Dead

Enjoyed our typical Marg Monday with a green Margarona in honor of St. Patty’s Day. Enjoyed 4 normal margaritas after that. 

Hopped around in a friends dorm for a bit. Wore sunglasses indoors. Played an out-of-tune guitar while I sat on a friend. Convinced a very tiny person to take many shots. Snapchatted everyone I knew. 

Got home. My FWB peaced out of his fraternity sleepover to shower with me. We frolicked past a sister into my room, much to her amusement. Further shenanigans. Started to feel some pressure to do things I didn’t want to do, so naturally I transformed into the drunk crying girl. It was great. I insisted that he didn’t have to stay there and baby me. So he left to hang out with his brothers again. Poor choice, but I survived. 

Felt a little upset so I napped in my car for a bit. Got over myself then went back to a normal bed. 

Got a FWB call at 1:30: “Can you let me in?”

Shenaniganned 2.0 and passed out. Woke up at 4:30 and he wasn’t there again, but his phone and shoes were so I knew he didn’t go very far. He stumbled back in at 6am. Apparently he sleepwalked to the room across the hallway and passed out in one of my sister’s beds. 

It was a weird night. 

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