Warning: This post contains donuts. If you’re not into reading about food + sex then maybe you shouldn’t read this.
I had a habit of overworking myself – it was hard to deny that I often finished what I started – My relationship that ended in marriage, my ongoing collection of cute taxidermied mice, Cheers to Frasier, Venture Bros. etc. But there were also instances of laziness, where I leave work early to buy donuts from that horridly popular doughnut store. That doughnut store that boasts having the best donuts in the city but in truth the clientele was just a bunch of drunk or stoned, middle class hipsters. But a doughnut is a doughnut and these were as good as they’re going to get – in this god-awful city.
After getting the donuts I drive to my apartment and find my husband’s Lexus parked next to the Jeep. I meditate on reasons why he could be home and just assumed that he was exhausted from that two-day trip he had visiting family. I admit he did get a little needy and we spent the entire night of his last day fucking on the phone.