I'm getting my horn removed on Tuesday. The coin-sized lump at the base of my hairline and beginning of my forehead. I tell people it's remnants from my past life as a unicorn. I then tell people it's actually a "pilar cyst" filled with dead skin cells from one time when I bumped my head badly as a child and the skin folded under itself (which, honestly, could have occurred on countless occasions). It's been slowly growing ever since... Fucking disgusting is what that is. I want no part in that, and I'm sick of always touching it wondering if it's actually a cancerous tumor that's just waiting to take over my brain rendering me useless. That's why I'm getting the surgery. To know once and for all.

In the "real world," I started working for a cannabis PR firm, aka getting closer to my dream of being a badass woman in the weed industry. In the mean time though, I'm still working at the big D (Domino's) driving pizza deliveries. I know that it sounds absolutely ridiculous, and that's because it is. The irony comes out especially when I forget to take off my $600 David Yurman ring (another gift from my parents) when I'm delivering two medium pizzas and a marble cookie-brownie with a 2 liter of Sprite to a guy missing two of his front teeth. The front range of Colorado can be interesting in that way — a brand new housing development built up next to the grungy, notorious Bar L motel-apartments offering rooms by the week and month. The tips are quite lovely though, I made $120 cash last night. To make things even better, the new online delivery system allows customers to submit feedback, say, if anything were wrong with their order. With the amount of stoners in our client base, we tend to get some interesting notes. And last night, we got feedback submitted to the store saying, "Emily was cute." The entire flock of employees was howling, from the make-line boy Drew to the manager Brenen. One of them compliments me with a dab later that same night. I'm looking for someone to give me all that and more. But right now, I go home and roll a joint.