Meesh of all trades, master of none. That's me. 27 year old Chicagoan, cat lover, accidental runner, half-ass artist and comestibles connoisseur hobbling my way through 'adulthood'.
Found my dream spring jacket on clearance at Marshall’s. This never happens.
Even though I post puppy pics all the time now, this guy will always be the number 1 man in my life.
So I’ve often wondered where homeless people, you know, go to poop.
Well today I found out the answer.
In places like right next to our back door gate.
How was everyone’s weekend?
Baby’s first bath.
Doug encouraged me to sign the birthday card to his niece “Aunt Meesh,” so I did. And I gotta say…I liked it.
This just in: my dad told me my Oma keeps calling Doug “Dough” (because there is also no German equivalent for Douglas.)
Oh, hey, remember the time I walked into my GATED PARKING LOT and my car wasn’t there?
And then I (thank god) found out it was towed because my fucking management company didn’t give me a permit, but they’re still trying to make me pay even though I HAVE THE FUCKING REMOTE TO GET IN AND OUT?
Give me a beer. Stat.
I’ll give you one guess what I chose to do.