Surprisingly, I'm not even mad at them or annoyed. They are throwing a party on a Thursday. There are at least six people who live in that one bedroom apartment because it's so damn expensive in this city and they are either speaking Portuguese or Spanish. I am not bothered by loud ass neighbors, even though it would seem like something that I couldn't deal with because autism. I lived in this Brooklyn apartment adjacent to the Q train when I was trying to distance myself from friends and family in my community. People would come visit me and not be able to sleep. It was wonderful.
Tomorrow I am going to need to start grinding in an old school way because the money is getting low. Please don't hop into my DMs and try to lure me with sugar daddy requests because I'm talking about money. In my culture, we talk about money a lot. We don't consider it rude. It is polite conversation. If you pay rent, the people want to know how much you pay. If you own anything, the people need to know when you purchased it and at what price so they can determine if you got screwed over, if they are getting screwed over, if they can learn anything from your purchase or if they can help you. Me being a little broke does not mean that you need to send help via your goddamn penis. You've got the wrong one.
I've been researching my dog and apparently she is a big deal in Mexico City. Apparently there is a cool park / museum where they have ancient art and a small pack of Xolo dogs. My dog seems to be very similar to me in personality. She doesn't trust random motha fuckas, she likes walking and jogging but is reluctant to leave the house initially, and she enjoys being moisturized. She has chosen my daughter as her most-trusted family member even though she only looks to me for guidance. My daughter is loud as hell and a beast in her own right. I do love that they have this friendship. I'm grateful the dog found us and we found her!