Last night was good. In fact, last night was pretty much as close to perfect as my birthday celebrations are ever going to get. But why am I such a drunken fool? Why do I come up with these strange thoughts in the middle of a normal, standard conversation? I'll tell you why: these self-sabotaging habits of mine. Get a grip, Emma.
I actually had to check my phone this morning to see if I'd sent any bizarre and depressing text messages. Sweet, miraculous exhaustion: I hadn't.
Basically, you're amazing.