RIP My Dear Brit.

No, she's not dead, but a part of her certainly is. Yesterday, my friend K and I spent an hour comparing her former unabashed hotness to her recent mental, physical, and emotional breakdown. Compare this:

To this:



Oof.


In other news, I found a $20 bill outside the apartment building door taking the pup out this morning. What am I supposed to do, tack it up on the wall with a note? I don't think so.

Today, I'm taking advantage of the holiday: gym, organizing the paperwork that is my life, DVR shows from last week, and by that time it will be time for bed. How thrilling am I.