no more living the la dream where i used to live in la (no duhh), now im living the whatever kinda dream there is to live here in vancouver, canada.
(lower case intended)
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(hehe it's edited so re read if ya like cuz there were some changes made)
y/n's pov
*beep beep*
it's the sound of my phone alarm. new country, new city, new house, same old stupid alarm. i groan and grab my phone on my nightstand i didn't care if i hit the snooze button or not, as long as it stopped making that noise. while i was at it, i opened up snapchat and sent streaks.
i rolled out of bed, falling on the ground and groaning once again. "oof, monday", this wasn't the normal start of the daily grind monday everyone dreads to wake up to, mine was a new start of the new everyday grind, at a new school. no more living the LA dream where i used to live, now im living the whatever kinda dream there is to live here in vancouver, canada.
i realized i was just literally laying on the ground thinking, so i got up and went to my closet taking forever to pick out my outfit cause ya know, first impressions are everything, luckily i woke up early this morning.
☀︎
after what seemed like forever of comparing shirts, to jeans i decided on a black and white striped shirt tucked into some ripped boyfriend jeans, and some fishnet socks paired with my black and white old skool vans ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓
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i went to my bathroom, which was basically in my room and plugged in my curling wand/straightening iron. while i waited for that to heat up, i threw my hair up in a messy bun, did my morning face routine, and my makeup. after all that, i curled/straightened my hair, then took a mirror pic, captioning it, 'first day of school again, bouta be a shizzyfull day', 'miss y'all sm', and posted it on my story. i grabbed my f/c fjallraven kånken backpack, made sure i had everything i needed, and made my way down stairs to the kitchen.
"mornin' mom", i said as i saw her making breakfast. "morning, honey", she said giving me a plate, and i poured myself some (morning drink). i sat down at the table, pouring syrup on my bacon. (a/n: who else does that? but if you don't, just leave that part out) it was just me and my mom, my dad left her before i was born, so i never met that son of a female dog, neither do i ever plan to. my mom's my best friend, she wasn't strict but then again she wasn't too layed, and she wasn't nosy with my business or anything like that. she's a chill, cool mom, as most of my friends describe her as. she's one of those moms who shops at PINK, forever 21, ya know all them good stores, doesn't care if i have guy friends or if i cuss, is really good at doing makeup and hair, doesn't really have a dress code for me. (a/n: i literally just described my dream mom)
