This is a Just PMSing original series titled “The moment I knew I hit rock bottom” where I tell y’all about some of my lowest moments. Don’t feel sorry for me. Just laugh and buy me a drink. If you have a story you feel can top mine, then start your own blog.
It was the middle of the afternoon at Gloria’s in Addison, Texas. I was with some friends and my boyfriend enjoying a margarita swirl and chips and bean dip. I had no idea what the swirl margarita consisted of, but I do know after four sips, I was drunk.
That’s when I started passionately talking about Gwen Stefani. “You have to give Gwen cwedit, though.”
Cwedit.
cwedit.
c-w-e-d-i-t.
Everyone put their heads in their hands and knew I was done for. My day was over. I was drunk. Four sips of Gloria’s had won and I had lost. But if you thought it couldn’t get any worse from pronouncing credit like a thick-tongued 3-year-old, just you fking wait.
