39. Bryanna

Work was distracting. New projects gave me reasons to not think about anything else. They were quite exhausting so when I came home from work what I did was sleep.

No time to think about that guy who broke my heart.

Nope.

I'm not going to touch that.

If my weekdays were filled with work things, my weekends were capitalized by this creature I—now am not so happily—called best friend. She forced me to get out of the bed early—it was noon, but when you were slaving your butt off ten hours a day on weekday wearing heels, noon is considered early—and dragged these said tired butt around to shop.

And, thank God, it's a 'getting pampered time' this time.

"Oh, God," I groan, feeling the heaven the masseuse brings me to as her hands moves to loosen my tight back muscles.

Eh, scratch the last word. Do my back have muscles? I don't think I have one in my entire body.

"Don't come," jests the girl who made torturing her best friend a hobby from the bed beside me.

The masseuse, I caught a g