You take off your bra as soon as you walk through the door.
If you even make it through the door. Half the time, it’s already unhooked in the car.
The same thing goes for uncomfortable pants.
Or any pants for that matter.
Have a headache? Google the symptoms: you have a tumor.
Have a stomachache? Google the symptoms: you have an ulcer.
Have a slight tickle in your throat? Google the symptoms: you have Ebola.
Basically, WebMD is your best friend and worst fucking nightmare.
No matter if your period is on time, late, or literally happening, you’re always convinced you’re pregnant.
Every. Single. Month.
When was the last time you actually washed your bras? When the washing machine was invented? Ever? It just doesn’t happen.
You check when someone was last on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram when he or she doesn’t text you back to determine if that person is ignoring you.
Because you’re obviously not paranoid at all.
You eat half of a cookie and leave the other half sitting on the plate, disfigured and sad.
So you return less than a minute later to eat half of the half of the cookie.
Only to come back and finish off the cookie to put it out of its misery.
You go to a party, bar, or philanthropy event just to see if someone you hate will be there. It’s totally rational and in no way insane.
You insist that you can’t eat another bite and take the food home with you, only to eat it as soon as you walk through the door.
If you even make it through the car ride without opening up your to-go box of heaven.
You’re “on your period” at pool parties, because, you know, it’s a pool party.
When someone asks you your size, you subtract at least two sizes.
And remind that person with your eyes that he or she is an asshole.
When someone you don’t know “likes” a picture of your boyfriend, man crush, or the guy you’re in love with from afar, you immediately start stalking her to see why the hell she would do such a thing.
Then you get legitimately mad when her pictures are hidden, because she’s obviously hiding something.
Like, pictures with YOUR boyfriend, man crush, or guy you stalk. I mean, love from afar. Whatever.
You get mad when you see other people having fun. It doesn’t matter if they are your friends, boyfriends, or old ladies playing bingo. You get mad.
You get drunk but insist you’re not that drunk.
Because you’re, like, *hiccup* totally not drunk *hiccup* at all.
You pick your nose when no one is looking. Don’t deny it. Santa’s watching.
Oh, and you know how you put your loose hairs from the shower on the wall, thinking you’ll wash them off only to forget, so you’re forever showering in a forest of your own hair? Yeah. We all do that.
Because we’re disgusting creatures.
And then, once you get out of the shower, you hang out for half an hour naked or in a towel doing literally nothing.
You put on a strapless bra when you randomly have to leave the house because this way you don’t have to physically take off the shirt you’re wearing.
Because yes, that is way, way too much work just to go cry into a bread bowl at Panera.
You see something you absolutely love at the store but the thought of trying it on makes you actually want to die, so you buy it anyway and just tell yourself that you’ll return it if you hate it.
This is way too much work, so you never return it, even though it makes you look like you have man shoulders.
And you don’t. Duh.
Doing your makeup haphazardly in the car and poking yourself repeatedly in the eye just so you can have that extra 10 minutes of sleep? Yeah. Literally all of us.
You spend hours putting things in your virtual shopping cart, only to decide that you don’t need any of it. Then you delete everything.
You compulsively check your phone for texts even though you have the sound turned all the way up, so you already know that you don’t have anything and everyone hates you.
So, you turn off the sound and flip your phone over because you can’t handle the rejection.
But then you turn the sound back on three minutes later, because the suspense is killing you.
When another girl does her hair or makeup, you literally go into a trance watching like a creep, because it is the most interesting, relaxing, wonderful thing in the world to witness.
Oh, and yes we all watch those makeup tutorials online, only to cry because we will never be that beautiful, skilled, or have the steady hands required for such art.
You check the invite list of Facebook events to see if exes, girls you hate, or other potential drama will be there. Even if you weren’t invited.
And sure, you’ll click “attending” to events even if you most likely won’t go, just so the girl you hate won’t show up. Because you’re smart. And you think ahead. And you’re a bitch.
You tell yourself that it’s not that bad that you had tacos, queso, and three cookies, because at least you asked for light sour cream.
You read the message that was sent to you on Facebook without opening it so a few days later, you can pull the ol’ “oh, sorry, I just saw this” trick.
And when you see your phone ringing, you wait for it to stop, only to text the person five minutes later saying, “Hey, just saw you called. What’s up?”
You wash your face but leave the mascara running down your cheeks like the girl in “The Ring,” because whatever. Beauty is on the inside, right? And you’re lazy.
Yeah, you know exactly who he follows on Instagram.
And finally, you pour yourself one glass of wine, despite knowing you will finish that whole bottle. But whatever–if we’re all doing it, it can’t be that bad, right?
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