Reminiscing about when I was dating a boy who was always late. I used to polish off a bottle of Pinot Grigio and a Norah Jones album - obnoxious singing included - by the time he had arrived. I’m writing this with the biggest smile on my face. Not all memories are sad.
It’s 10:44am and I’m already planning my wild night while Sean’s in Norway.
I’m going to drink Pinot Grigio under a fluffy blanket while I watch Frozen. 20 year old me is turning over in her grave.