Movie Night

I hate going to bed with sad thoughts... it means I'll dream sad dreams.

Why am I having sad thoughts, you wonder? (Well, maybe you don't wonder, but for the sake of my not having anything to say otherwise, just humor me.)

This is why:

Tonight I decided to lay low after returning home from yet another double at the restaurant.

I let the dog out and changed into pajamas, I settled in on the couch, leisurely checked out my email, then popped in my latest Netflix and painted my nails with the super-fast-drying crap that my mom thinks will kill me because of the fumes. (Note: Still living.)

Fast forward to the end of the movie. (No, not literally, just for the sake of this post.)

Everyone told me The Wrestler was so good.

Well, on the contrary, I found it extremely depressing.

In fact, I cried.

Good night.