Post Script

P.S. I can't believe the pity party I was having on the way home tonight. I have a confession - I stopped and bought a pack of smokes, and had one on the way home, singing to Sheryl Crow, singing my heart out and smoking because I was searching for something that would allow me to both rebel and console. URGH! I feel gross! What was I thinking? I wasn't. I was thinking of him. Not myself, and that's what got me into this mess in the first place. Stupid girl!