Doing my best to fight the prohibition.
So Halloween happened...my plans for a Max costume seemed to be against the wishes of the Halloween Gods, as my every effort was painfully thwarted. But thanks to my dress-up box of leftover theatre costumes, I pulled together a pretty swanky 1920s glam get-up with my flapper dress (from the Gatsby dance senior year), my fur coat, some vintage make-up, and my old Cleopatra wig chopped into a fashionable bob. And of course, in true anti-prohibitionist style, I smuggled booze into the local speakeasy like the classy dame I am. It was simply the cat's pajamas.
In other news, I am basically out of money, and rapidly running out of room on my credit card to defer my student loans to. I feel like I've been given a few months before my death sentence....before I've exhausted all my monetary options, and I'm officially financially BONED for the rest of my life. I need another job, or a promotion, or a miracle. I'm in a constant state of either anxiety, or distraction. I'm sure this isn't healthy, but I have yet to come up with a solution.
I will now accept winning lottery tickets as tokens of your affection.