I'm pretending that Mako didn't wake me up at 2:04 this morning. Or that it was a welcomed distraction from the exquisitely vivid dream I was having about MisterJones. He is a tempting devil. Gotta love a man in a suit; especially if the suit is crumpled on the floor.
I'm pretending that it's not another two hours until my neighbor is back from his insanity trip and I can nap. He does this like clockwork on Sundays. It's as though he believes the loud obnoxious music will chase off his fucked life for a bit, and maybe it does. Who am I to judge?
I'm pretending that Dom is not going to call me five minutes after I fall asleep and tell me he's missing our time together.
While I'm at it, I'm pretending I have incredibly perky full breasts and ass that rivals Kim K's and that's why my dance card is always so full.
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