Trying isn't cool.

April did not believe in holidays for getting drunk, because frankly, if you asked her, getting drunk was something to do for the fun of it and not because a holiday told you to. Besides, she wasn't Irish and saw no point in pretending she was. So she was not celebrating St. Patrick's Day today -- in fact, she wasn't even aware that today was it.

What she was doing instead was frying a Pop-Tart, because the internet told her they were especially delicious that way and who was she to argue? She was almost certainly going to burn it, because she didn't really know how to cook, but she didn't mind as long as the smoke detector didn't go off.

Okay, eventually it did go off. But just for a few seconds until she got the windows open. That was good, right?

[[open! come investigate the noise or whathaveyou! thread with jono is last, tho.]]

April had had an interesting morning.

It began with accidentally horrifying some guy in a park who had looked appropriately sketchy but in actuality was just supervising his kids playing with a Frisbee. Then she'd gotten followed around by a cop for a little bit -- unfortunately it seemed like her talent of being able to attract suspicion from the police was difficult to turn off -- and had ducked into some random store for a bit, where she'd been all but attacked by overzealous perfume sales reps who seemed hell-bent on making her smell like the backstage of a beauty pageant. Naturally, she'd had to combat that by stopping for a lunch of buffalo wings to get rid of the creepy flowery smell, and while enjoying those while wandering around the streets, she finally succeeded in her actual goal for the day, and managed to make a very important purchase.

She was sort of proud of that, truth be told. Not that she hadn't thought she could do it, but the confirmation was nice.

So, stuffing the bag into her pocket, she set off back toward the causeway, still eating the last of her wings and plotting out what to text Jono as soon as she had a free hand to do it with. Something about her impressive success, no doubt. But low-key. Like she didn't care.

Obviously.

[[largely establishy, but open as well!]]