The door of her apartment creaks open, the diffuse light of the hallway spilling into the dark entryway. With a snap of her fingers, the lights above thrum to a half-life that gives it a bit of a dodgy din, even with the brightly colored walls, a snugly tucked wooden shoe rack, dresser and coat hanging assembly the only things that depart from the clean design.
She sighs, light and loose, shaking out her hair, and plops down her goods from the lil excursion down to think as she shrugs off her coat. Getting a little bitey, now, but not enough to make it worth it to put on something more then her jogging jacket. The goods on the other hand are a handful of standard snacc fare - a girl's gotta eat, and this stuff always helps make that more manageable, here - 'cause a girl's gotta girl, and a surprisingly slick lil num of a notebook - all pink and pretty and heavy and quality.
She's been picking back up sketching, and this one called to her, even if it was a bit embarrassingly femme classic.
Unloading the snacks into the cabinet and the e into the pill organizer is a work of a few brief minutes, and after a moment's work to toss her phone back on it's charger and get her big ass in her big ass bed, she settles down to make use of it.
Firstly, just the date at the top right, like a good lil organized girl.