I was telling mom, we could have turned on the gas and been dead in here this Christmas, and no one would have noticed.
Granted, everything is electric. And I couldn’t go an entire day without bitching that the idiot upstairs is building pipe bombs and praying to Mecca over his goddamn karaoke system. But still.
If two colleagues and two cousins hadn’t reached out, I would have thought we were dead already. I’m still waiting to hear from the handful of people I texted 12 hours ago.
It’s times like this when you wonder whether any friend or man-friend is good enough. Hanging around waiting for a good one is a lonely business.
But wine and lasagna never disappoint …
