Broke

I am officially exhausted by being broke. Like aggressively broke. Like “let’s split a soda because capitalism is cruel” broke. Today Sheila took me to see The Devil Wears Ratatouille, which sounds like a fake movie Kirk would produce in Stars Hollow for twelve dollars and a panini. She bought popcorn and we split a drink that was half Cherry Pepsi and half Diet Coke, which honestly tasted way better than it had any right to. The movie itself was fine. Like airplane entertainment fine. But hanging out with her was fun, and honestly sometimes that’s the whole point. There’s something weirdly comforting about sitting in a dark theater eating overpriced popcorn pretending your life isn’t held together by Google Calendars and denial. 

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