Splenda cheesecake in oven: check.
New shoes all accounted for: check.
House a tiny bit less of a wreck than usual: check.
Location of best friend after girls’ night last night: UNKNOWN
Dead cell battery so I can’t wake her silly ass up: check.
Requisite FIFTEEN missed calls from her ex on my phone when I got up this morning: CHECK.
I’m pretty sure she’s not dead, just sleeping rather happily somewhere her ex would rather not know about. Which is totally fine by me, I’ve got zero to say about anyone’s love life if they seem happy, but!
Don’t leave your door unlocked so your ex can just walk in and make himself at home, SITTING THERE WAITING FOR YOU LIKE A PSYCHO. That will be a buzzkill. I’m so sorry I can’t do anything to stop it.
Check all that. At least she knows what’s waiting for her. I’m so done with drama. I really don’t want to be a screenwriter. Make up your own stories, I’ve got plenty of my own.