If I could redo college, there’s only one thing I would change. And it wouldn’t be partying more, drinking less or being in a relationship my senior year. It would be, the moment I left my freshman dorm, buying a three or four-month old dog.
I have to come clean about an addiction that has overtaken my life. A high so good I can’t match it with anything else. One that’s drained my bank account worse than cigarettes, gambling or heroin ever (hypothetically) did.
“If you say Twitter again, I’m not going to speak to you for a week.”
1. We can’t be female feminists, so don’t make us try.