Friday Confessions.

Here’s a thing: I’m a bitchy teenager and a spendthrift. And an adult.

Exhibit A: There’s a woman who has recently come back to belly dancing class. I thought she was a reasonable person, if not the kind of person I’d be great friends with. But it turns out that, some eight years ago, when E and I were first getting together, she cornered him and asked why he was ‘getting with that dumpy bitch’, meaning me. Now, I don’t really want to be friends with her. Because she was bitchy a whole eight years ago. And I sort of think she’s ugly. Because she said I was. Hello, I thought I’d moved past grade 10, but apparently, I haven’t. I wish I could surmount this, because I do love belly dancing class, and I’d like to feel like I did last night, when she wasn’t there: safe and happy.

Also, I am bound to go into debt going to the UK in April. But I don’t care! Fiscal responsibility, be damned! I am going on an adventure!

Fiscal responsibility is one thing, but I actually bought travel insurance. Travel Insurance! Like an adult! I know it’s smart, but I kind of feel like I’m straying from my seat-of-the-pants traveler roots, even though that is not even the case. It’s smart to be insured. I just never have been before.

So this week I’m confessing to being meaner and both less and more cautious. Waffler that I am.

You wanna say something?

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