The Boyfriend and I saw this movie last night and I promise I won’t spoil it, other than to say that I am pretty sure some Hollywood exec has been lurking in my bushes and shrouding my life story in a veil of NASA. If you’ve seen a trailer (which I haven’t) I’m guessing you already know that the movie is basically an extended scene where everything that could go wrong does go wrong. AKA my life.
The Boyfriend does not like this. He is one of those rare creatures that comes from an emotionally stable family and hasn’t suffered any extensive traumas (I know what you’re thinking– I promise, he is a real person. I’m so beyond the stage of life where you have fake boyfriends). Because of this he is having to learn how to navigate my relentless barrage of towel-throwing-ins. The other night after I found out about the the hearing with psycho-ex he sent me this photo and caption:
“I’m full of happies, are you full of happies?”
I can’t resist this baby seal with his odd face and little flippers. His adorable fluffy little existence is in direct conflict with space explosions and non-gravity drift.
In the last couple weeks I have had a SURPRISE root canal, an upper respiratory infection, gotten in a wreck, and found out I get to incur a slew of new attorney fees. But when I look at this baby seal all I think is: I have dental insurance, health insurance, car insurance, and a badass attorney who says things like “he is the craziest mother effer I have ever seen.”
So I guess it’s not all bad. For now.
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