In my imagination, I am at least 5 foot 4 (with heels, of course) and a perpetual hundred and ten pounds (even after the holidays!). I have pink and white roller skates and a bicycle with a bell and I happily roll around my neighborhood every afternoon, while or a little before the sun sets. I have enough hours in the day for work, for reading, for people, and for rolling.
In my imagination, the boyfriend and I live with a cat. Every charmed life needs a cat. This cat is as big as a month-old human baby and his name is Horatio but everyone calls him Baby.
In my imagination, I prefer tea over coffee and have a proper tea set like every proper lady should. I have an oven and every hungover Sunday afternoon is spent baking. I know how to make a mean cheesecake. In my imagination.
But I can’t be/do/have those few simple things, not right now, so I resolve to eat fruit everyday.
I also bought a corset.
I need a colon cleanse, badly.
This is my friend, Tin.
We are neighbors, but not the kind of I’m going to your place to watch TV and hang out and drink soda on a sweltering summer afternoon neighbors. Her dad is a kagawad. Until today, he was under the impression that Tin and I were a couple.