Fake Plants, Lemonade, and Paris Jazz

Well, I’m sitting Indian-style, barefoot, sweater dipping on my shoulder, listening to 150 minutes of Paris Cafe Jazz & wishing I was in a hot tub watching the Northern Lights. But I’m not. I’m in St. Louis, Mo & that’s alright. The lemonade isn’t too bad. Especially since I’m being a total Pinterest snob and drinking it from a pink Mason jar with a straw. I have these two fake succulents sitting next to my laptop, they’re little zombie plants, which is great. I can’t kill what is already dead. I’m not a gardener. Have I ever mentioned that the cello is sexy? 

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