Ugh I know when I’m older and living with a boyfriend, whereever that may be, I’m going to be the type of girlfriend who is always in underwear and a baggy band tank top. I’m going to dance everywhere, and leave stupid silly notes in the fridge and on the counter and on the pillows and in his sock drawer. I’m going to pop randomly into the room when he’s doing really important work and just belt out a lyric in some horribly untuned voice and then run away. I’m going to lay on the floor all the time, just because and I’ll probably sit in the laundry basket full of clothes and demand to be carted around the house to the laundry room. I’m going to make breakfast always, and make tea even when its really hot outside. There will ALWAYS always always be a stash of cookies somewhere and he’ll have to eat them even if they’re horrible and burnt like they usually are. I want us to buy lots of artistic prints and redecorate the house approximately every month or so because we’ll forever be unsatisfied with our clashing tastes and the routine we fall into. I want bubble baths and movie nights, maybe both together, or maybe where we’re just sprawled out on a bed in nothing but socks. Its just how its going to be, there’s no way this won’t be my future life.