Last night I had a breakdown. In public. And out of nowhere.
Sure, this has happened to me a few times before, maybe in college while drunk at a party—but that’s when I was 18 and probably everyone else around me was already on the verge of crying anyhow or puking in the bathroom. And in the end, no one would remember the next day. But now I’m 24, a grown-up in as much as I am a working professional, live alone, and pay all my bills. So when I go out, it doesn’t seem in the cards that my much more responsible self would somehow get involved in a drunken drama.