In All Silliness/Seriousness || Dahlia and Sophia
For the past couple of weeks, "ratings" was probably the only word in her vocabulary. She had spent too many hours working overtime with the other studio management staff, figuring out advertising plans and publicity methods. Never did Sophia think she could go from watching TV to now eating, sleeping, and breathing it too. When she had that crazy dream involving one of the main actors of the new Criminal-Minds-esque show, aliens, and the girl who worked at the Starbucks that Sophia went to normally, that was when she knew she should probably take a day or two off to maybe, you know, get her brain back to normal. While her hot designer girlfriend was at work, she appreciated the fact that for once, she didn't have to get up, take a shower, and wear professional clothes to head to the studio. Instead today, she got up -- late, and not ashamed of it. Skipped the shower. And she had been lounging in her pajamas on the couch until two in the afternoon. Ten episodes of Friends later, she eventually got up, got ready, and changed out of her pajama shorts and tank top and into leggings and a shirt instead. Still comfortable, but not over-doing it.
Yesterday night before bed, she had playfully promised Dahlia a romantic dinner together without really planning how much effort she actually was going to put into the dinner or whether or not it would actually happen. Now, scrolling on her tablet on the kitchen counter, she eventually found a dinner recipe that wouldn't involve her wanting to kill herself over the fact that cutting up onions was an ordeal she still wasn't good at -- and after five hours of lounging around, it was a task that required far too much effort. Pasta it was! Pasta, heating up the sauce and meatballs, some steamed frozen broccoli on the side, some ice cream they still had left in the freezer -- dinner of champions. Who said Dahlia had to be the one doing all the cooking? But thankfully, Dahlia did do the majority of the cooking because if that weren't the case, the two of them would have a major problem on their hands.
Now around a half hour before Dahlia would get home, Sophia looked up from wiping the kitchen counter at the disaster of a living room. If this had been any other apartment with the magazines strewn over the coffee table and the DVD collection spilled out of the TV stand, she might have thought the place was ransacked. But if she worked fast, she could get the living room looking half-way decent. Finally, with the table set and the apartment smelling a lot better than it did before, she ran back inside the bedroom to change back into pajama shorts and a tank top. Messed up her hair a bit and tried to look like she hadn't even gotten out of bed yet. With her phone in her hand, she thought to her self, what's a romantic dinner without some fun? Sitting outside the apartment door now, she sent a message. TEXT: "Okay, okay, before you get mad, but romantic dinner...probably not going to happen. I'm a bit of a mess and I may have accidentally locked myself out now when I went to go check the mail."And then she waited for her girlfriend to walk around the corner, praying that one of their neighbors wouldn't see her like this instead
