BEELZEBUB 2.0

 Dio and I have officially moved in and it feels weird. I don't have somewhere to run and hide whenever I feel like eating chips and dip while spilling the dip on top of my chest while lying down watching top model in my solitude. I don't have somewhere to run when I need to almost surgically make my feet less disgusting (Sweden is a country of stupid assholes that hardly makes female shoes in sizes bigger than a 10/41 even though the people living there are one of the world's tallest which leaves me to wearing shoes that are too small and feet looking like ugly ass crashed cars). I can't wait until my face is less red after spending 30 minutes squeezing black heads in front of the bathroom mirror.

I can't run anymore. I am forced to show all the different unflattering sides of me and it's not because of shame or feeling like I'd lose my mojo. F.Y.I. I'm a sex kitten even with the hairiest legs on earth.

It's the loss of privacy i will be mourning soon. The loss of taking a dump for hours with a good book without feeling bad for the person having to go right after you, or fart whenever the fuck you feel like farting, or feeling like you reek and not taking a shower even though I'm pretty fucking glad I need to get my shit together for someone. Shit was getting pretty nasty...

Don't get me wrong or anything, I am insanely happy about the move, my baby and our future together.

But heck, I guess I'm just saying goodbye to my disgustingly lazy slob self.