Pshaw. I don’t know what everyone is complaining about. Dating in New York City is a breeze!

The word “confirmed” pops up on my screen, and I let out a little whoop. I grab another shot, head back to my table, and hold my phone victoriously over my head. “Guys! I made a date!”

Nick, Gemma, and our new friends all cheer for me like I just won an Academy Award.

I don’t remember much after that.

Friday rolls by in a blur of a vomit-fueled haze. Because my friends are amazing, coffee and a greasy breakfast sandwich show up at my door at one o’clock in the afternoon, right around the time I manage to scrape myself off the bathroom floor.

I take the delivered goods from a guy who looks way too smug about this whole situation, if you ask me, and make a mental note to thank Nick and Harley the next time I can make my eyes focus on a phone screen. I seriously don’t deserve them.

Even though it’s April and not that cold, I curl up on the couch under my favorite soft blanket, slowly taking a few bites of the sandwich, making sure it’s going to stay in place before I chow down on the rest of it. “I’m too old for this shit,” I tell my philodendron, which doesn’t offer even one kind word of commiseration.

And with that blank stare from my plant, with a full belly and under the comfort of my blanket, I finally let the sadness wash over me. Not just disappointment or anger but pure, unfiltered sadness. I’m certainly no stranger to feeling worthless—not meeting expectations was one of my few constants growing up—but getting fired came out of nowhere. I didn’t have time to mentally prepare for the onslaught of emotions. And all those emotions wash over me now, like some kind of fucked-up tsunami.

I spend the rest of the day on the couch, chugging water and mainlining saltines, Netflix and a wad of tissues to stem my tears my only company. Around eight that night, I manage to drag myself off the couch and into a shower. I feel almost like a real live human being when I step out of the steam and into my pajamas.

I’m on my way to sleep when my phone dings with an alert.

Reminder: Coffee tomorrow at 2:00. Gran Caffé de Martini.