Page 2 of Thick

The wind outside is much chillier than I expected, but at least for once, I have my coat, so I tuck it around myself and once again wish I had a cute puppy to take on walks with me, even if it's close to midnight.

With the thoughts of the fluffy ball of fur I’ve been daydreaming about, I stop by the storefront window for the DNF bookstore. It's one of my favourite places in the whole wide world. A used bookstore where people donate books they couldn't finish so that they can find their second home.

It's where I first discovered my love for Whychoose romances and found my first DDlg book. It's incredible what people will throw out because they don't understand it.

There's a new display up in the window with a bunch of new books ready for their forever homes, and I make a mental note to claw my way out of bed at a decent time in the morning so I can get there and grab the pretty bookies before anyone else can get their hands on them.

Excited about my plans for tomorrow and with the thought of cheesy pizza goodness spurring me on, I walk the rest of the way to Peppy's Pepperoni and eat my fill.

So what if it's not the healthiest meal? It makes me happy, and I don't have anyone telling me what I can and cannot do. Might as well enjoy the perks of being single, right?

two

Hot Piece of Ass

Zelda

"Yeehaw!"

Okay. So I'm a lame-o who cheers herself on. Who even cares?

In my lovely apartment filled with my many stuffed animals and pretend pets—aka the plants I give all my love and attention to—I'm the only one available to do any cheering.

Plus, I really do deserve a good cheer. After my midnight run for pizza the other night, I realised I needed to be better about looking after myself. As much as I'd like a sugar daddy or a Daddy full stop, I don't have one, and I won't get one staying inside all day.

So, I started my new mission.

Looking after Zelda 101.

Step one: Buy groceries. After various debates with the peanut gallery of stuffed bears on my bed, I finally ordered those in. Why force myself to people any more than I need to?

Step two: Set up a meal plan. It doesn't have to be healthy, but I must at least get two solid meals daily. This one was a little harder to do, but I finally figured it out with some help from a friend online.

Step three: Take at least one walk every second day. I don't have to force myself to socialise with anyone other than Edie, but I need fresh air and at least minimal exercise. And so far, for the last five days, I've managed to tick off everything on my list. I even set reminders on my phone to get my ass up and make some food.

Hence my 'Yeehaw'.

In the middle of a strict deadline to get a website up for a client, I stopped to pop some stuff in the oven for dinner. Something I usually would have worked straight through.

So, I can focus back on my tasks with my buns in the oven—delicious, buttery, garlic buns—and my coffee mug filled to the brim.

I've bashed my head against my desk on more than one occasion during this project. The client is particularly difficult, and they've shot down almost all of my suggestions, so the fact that for once they're happy with all I've done is a huge ego boost, one that came at the exact right time.

I fiddle on Illustrator for a while, messing around with the new logo options before shooting the changes to the client bitch from hell. With the ick out of the way, I can dive into the background and test the changes I'd implemented the night before.

Before long, I lose track of time, and I'm pretty much fucking elbow-deep in HTML coding when I smell it.

Smoke.

And not just a whiff of it, either.

And where there's smoke? In my life, that most definitely means there's fire.

Well fuck.

I didn't set a timer for the oven, did I?

Saying a little prayer to the kitchen gods or whoever else might listen, I rush to my very cute open-plan kitchen. But I don't make it that far... Why? Well, that would probably be because my kitchen is on fire.

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