you know you’ve had a long work week when

pampering yourself on your day off means sleeping in (I use this phrase loosely) until 6:30 a.m., taking your first shower in three days, and eating three actual meals in a 24-hour period. I know it will be difficult, but try not to envy my oh-so-awesome life.


On the bright side, I have recently unearthed online evidence that I was secretly admired by a younger-than-me classmate my senior year of high school. I stumbled upon said evidence when—in a moment of embarrassingly narcissistic indulgence—I googled myself, discovering this admirer’s cyber-diary amidst the mostly soccer-related results of my search.

I won’t link to the website in question, as I’d rather not reveal the identity of its author (you know, in case he googles himself, finding this post and, consequentially, me), but his account of our interactions is essentially as follows, arranged in a chronological timeline for your convenience:

1. J. developed feelings for me.
2. I led J. on by a) talking to him at a party one night, and b) telling him I was glad he had come to said party.
3. J. thought he might love me.
4. Following my conversation with J., I proceeded to “get with” (his words) one of his friends, devastating J.’s hope of a relationship with me.

I remember J. as a purely platonic pal. Apparently, I was too busy slutting it up with his friends to realize he wanted more.

But seriously. Was it so wrong of me to date—in succession—four boys (one of whom J. mentions) who also happened to be friends?

Probably.