Dan’s not speaking to me because he doesn’t like how I “handled things” on Saturday. What the hell was I supposed to do? I was expecting to wake up next to Han Solo not Chewbacca. 

Fuck. I’m spending way too much time with him, I shouldn’t even know that reference. 

Whatever. He’ll come around, he always does. It’s not like I did anything wrong - he’s the one who slept with someone too drunk to know what was going on.

Well, assuming we actually did sleep together - it seems like a typical Drunk Marissa move.

Fuck fuck fuck damn fuck.

I don’t even know how I got that drunk. 

Maybe I was roofied.

Okay unlikely. 

What was he even expecting? He knows I’m not into him like that. Why does he have to make my life so complicated? Things we just fine with us.

Ughhhh.

Whatever. He’s an idiot and he better text me. His birthday is in two weeks and, not to brag, but I got him a pretty awesome gift (well, awesome by his standards). And there’s no way in hell I’m walking into that comic store again to return it - once was mortifying enough. 

Anyway, I’m gonna go get an iced latte with Claire while it’s still nice.

xoxo