My apartment smells like an Anthropologie candle. A steaming Disney princess mug filled with vanilla-flavored coffee beckons. Turkey bacon sizzles on the stove.
I move into reclined bound angle pose on my artificial blue yoga mat, careful not to smudge my drying tea tree oil face mask or nick my fresh coat of nude nail polish on the wall of my closet-sized apartment.
It’s Sunday morning and I have absolutely nothing to do. No managers to impress, no events to host and no homework due Monday. Read More