Happy 30th to me! Got dumped by loserTrav the Manso it’s time to move on. Goodbye New Zealand, hello New York! Leaving in a week,, going to become a best sealing author if you don’t like it you can go duck yourself—
Oh God.
Mortification floods me. I don’t even remember posting that. I must have been drunk out of my mind—the multiple errors are proof of that. I wouldn’t be caughtdeadusing such poor grammar in real life. And ItaggedTravis in the post? I shudder in horror.
Glancing up at my parents, I give them a weak smile. “I was a bit drunk last night. Yes, Travis and I broke up, but the rest of this is just a joke.” I gesture to the screen with an unsteady laugh. People post shit on Facebook all the time—maybe I can just say I was hacked? That happens, right?
Mum straightens up. “Really?”
I scroll down through the comments. A few people are asking if I got hacked—there you go, it’s totally plausible—then there’s one from Emily saying,Yes! You go girl! This is going to be awesome!
Well. I’ll need to have a word with her about that, encouraging me when I’m that drunk. What kind of best friend is that?
I scroll further, my eyes landing on a comment by my boss, Julie. My stomach turns over when I read her words:We’re going to miss you girl, but this sounds like a wicked adventure.
Oh fuck. No. I didn’tactuallyquit my job, did I?
I open my email sent folder, and my heart sinks. There’s an email to my boss, announcing my immediate resignation from the role of “Asitant Manger.” My pulse accelerates and the tequila swirls treacherously in my belly. Because now, this is starting to feel a bit too real.
With shaking hands, I log into my bank account, and my fear is confirmed. Last night I spent $6000—basically all of my savings—on a one-way ticket to New York and something called the Wilson Rental Group.
The Wilson Rental Group.
The words register in the depths of my brain and everything starts to come back to me in fragments. I found a last-minute fare to JFK Airport two weeks from now. I put down a massive deposit on an apartment in the West Village. And yes, I quit my job as assistant manager at the local bookstore before announcing to the world what I was doing via Facebook. I distinctly remember deciding to announce it, so I couldn’t back out.
Holy hell. I bury my head in my hands as the room starts to spin around me. I can’t believe what I’ve done. What was I thinking? Iwasn’tthinking, obviously. I was wasted.
I look up at my parents, feeling my gut heave. Tossing my laptop aside, I push to my feet and flee the room, making it to the bathroom just as the tequila exits my stomach.
2
Ispend a good few minutes with my elbows on the toilet seat, the cause of last night’s mental breakdown pouring out into the toilet.
Because that’s what this is, right? A mental breakdown. It has to be. No one does this sort of shit when they’re sane.
I sink back onto my heels, reaching for a towel and dragging it across my mouth. Then I spy my phone sitting up on the bathroom vanity and grab it. There are a million notifications on the screen, but one jumps out at me, from Emily. I unlock the phone and read through the message thread.
Emily: I just read your Facebook post. Sorry about Trav.
Alex: Yeah he’s a deck. But I’m exited about New York!!!
Emily: Are you seriously going?
Alex: Yes!!!! I just bought ticket!!! I’m going!!!
Emily: How drunk are you?
Alex: Really drank.. But I know what I’m doing. I’ve wanted this forever and now the time!!!
Emily: Are you sure?
Alex: I’ve never been more curtain of something.. In my life.
Emily: I think this will be really good for you.
Alex: I know, I can’t wait!!!
Emily: I’ll message my friend Cat, she can show you around.
