Remember that episode of Sex and the City when Samantha got really sick and her curtains fell down in her fab loft? None of her dozens of men would come to help her. So obviously she decides she will likely die alone. Yea, I get that. So I sprain my ankle. How? I fell off my heels. Seriously it happens. Don’t laugh. No, I was not drunk. I wish. It would make for a better story. I was shopping. It is a sport. Thank you no one for believing me. Sooooo as result of my fashion injury I’m trapped in my own home. Crawling around for food and water. This is one of the few times being fabulously independent and single really bites to be honest. In life imitating art, none of my men can be bothered to come to my aid. So much for the theory that men want to rescue us. So, I do what any girl would do. Have food delivered, read Fifty Shades of Grey and shop online. Problem solved. And thanks to my reading, the next boy who comes over will most definitely come again.
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