If there was one week in my entire life that I would almost guarantee that I did not meet your father, it will be the week that just passed.
Now dear, dear, future children: I do not condone getting incredibly intoxicated and acting like a fool. Several things suffer when you do this. Your dignity, your sanity, your security, your ___ity. It all goes right down the tubes when you start drinking more than you're thinking. But kids, I want you to know that if you, when you're in your twenties, have days or weeks where you just really lose control, I won't feel like you're failures.
Because, kids, it happens.
And it happened to me this past week. This blog is not a testament to my bad mistakes nor is it a beacon of hope for the degenerate woman that I can sometimes be. It is just the truth. And the truth is that I've had better days.
But I am still me at the end of the week. Smarter for the mistakes I have made. And really, a more amusing person, too. Because while I may have done some really stupid things, I've done some really funny things, too. Maybe that's not an even trade-off, but I'm still young enough that I don't feel too ashamed.
But kids. Don't get super annihilated at work or at work functions. It's just really bad form. And while I won't judge you for it in the future, I will wish that my progeny didn't make the same mistakes as I did.
So while I can assure you that your father is out there somewhere, I can assure you that he may not have loved the woman I was this past week. Then again, I could be wrong. Mysterious ways, my dears.
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