Spring Break!...?

It's finally my college's spring break! Everyone has already had theirs so, like most of the students at CoD, our break is a late bloomer. While all the other kids are out drinking and partying and doing drugs that have more nicknames than a vagina, I'm doing other things.

List of other things:
-Reading
-Watching anime online
-Making my steampunk cosplay
-Animal Crossing
-Getting heat rash from my heating pad
-Chilling with boyfriend
-Seeing my friends(?)
-Internet. Forever

Although this isn't how I expected my freshman year spring break to be, I'm honestly not that mad. I'm a boring/lazy person and I'm most comfortable in my bed. What happens into my bed (ie. boyfriend, lappy, my cat, you), I am more than happy to have join me. 

I'm big on resting and relaxing, but I also have plans for this week. Like, taking Boyfriend out on a date because I recently got paid. And going to the movies with my mom. Doing homework. Not dying. You know, normal stuff.

Some may say I'm wasting my youth. That I should be going out and partying and doing all the things teenagers do. But to that I say, "Screw you, I have the entire internet to my disposal. I'm happier than a pig in shit."

Unless y'all know of a crazy party. In which case, I can put my dance pants on faster than you can say "Dance pants on."

Sharing a bed with Boyfriend is like sharing a bed with SATAN

Last night I slept over at Boyfriend's house. This is an artist's (my) rendition of him. He's not that weird looking in real life. I promise...

Anyway, I slept over. We slept in the guest bedroom. It has a queen size bed, so you'd think me, 5'4", 115 lbs and him, 6'1" and 145 lbs, would fit comfortably, right?

WRONG!!

It was extremely uncomfortable in every way. I had forgotten to bring my pillow, which is a major factor in my discomfort. I am a creature of extreme habit and the smallest thing can really irritate me. So, when you put me in a different bed, with a shitty pillow and the most fidgety mother fucker this side of the meth lab, you've got a recipe for disaster.

I got into bed, expecting Boyfriend to come in within the hour. When that didn't happen, I began to get very irritated with the fan. I turned it on because Boyfriend can't sleep without a fan on. Considerate, right? But, in those two hours before he came in, that fan was my mortal enemy. I wanted nothing more than to throw it out the window. The constant whirrrrrrrring of the fan grinded on every nerve I had.

When Boyfriend finally came in, he tried very hard to be quiet. Which was nice but he has the limb awareness of a labrador puppy. He climbed into bed and I finally thought I could fall asleep with the security of my warm, sweet, kind... cold... fidgety... twitchy... You get the picture. The poor thing couldn't sleep either. We were stuck in a hellish bed of shuffling, running into each other and a rising fury against our minds that they wouldn't let us fall into the blissful world of sleep.

Around 4 am, I finally fell into a deep enough sleep to dream. I had weirdo dreams. And I woke up constantly.

Morning rolled around and I got up, peed, ate, showered. While I was showering, Boyfriend hops in, says the water is too hot, and threatens that, if I don't turn it down, he'll fart on me.

Isn't love grand?

Princess Squibby has a lot of shit to say

I've always wanted to start a blog. Mainly so I have a place to say all the shit I have to say. Which is quite a bit. And also so Boyfriend doesn't leave me because I'm constantly talking about my hypochondria, conspiracy theories and all the cute animal videos I watch.

But, my worry is that I'll only end up reaching a few people with my words of "wisdom". I just recently got over that fear. Also, I just finished my bag of potato chips and I'm bored.

So, here I am, internet.  My first stab at blogging. Are you nervous? Are my stabbing skills working? We will find out. And by find out I mean I'm going to check back here every day hoping I get views.

Love and tension,
Her majesty, Princess Squibby