Last weekend, I went out, drank way too much, came home, (ordered cheesy bread), and then irrationally cried about everything and nothing:
Roommates: "Katie, what's wrong?"
Me (sobbing into my cheesy bread): "Everyone's just like 'I really like your blog. You love your cat!' I mean I do love my cat but..."
Yeah, not sure.
But I'm guessing that it had something to do with this:
This is why I should never be allowed to drink hard alcohol. Or white wine, for that matter (By the way, I'm still sorry about that, Pat!).
Anyway, I woke up the next morning half-naked, spooning my Kindle. What does it mean?!