true happiness is waking up at noon and going to the grocery store in your pajamas with your hair a tangled mess and your face greasy with last night’s makeup, and running into a coworker in the checkout line.  she calls your name three times before you hear, and you jump when you turn around and see her.  you’d been asleep not ten minutes before and are still groggy and inarticulate, and as you notice that her cart is filled with ten six-packs of soda, all you can think of to say to her is, “you’re buying a lot of tab.”  you, unfortunately, are buying three pizzas, a box of macaroni and cheese, and some m&ms.  “have a good christmas, kelly!” you say as you pick up your shopping bags and shuffle away, embarrassed.

driving home from the store, you think, oh my god, what if her name’s not kelly?