I've figured out the secret to looking like a woman who has her life completely together.

It's owning one really good blazer and mastering the art of expertly hiding all your tiny existential crises underneath it.

I spilled a tiny drop of coffee on my white shirt this morning.

I immediately pulled out my phone, composed myself, and filmed a dramatic monologue about the fragility of perfection, which I'm planning to submit to Sundance.

I was running late for work and spilled coffee all over my shirt, so I

decided to monologue about the meaninglessness of modern life as I stood there, coffee dripping down my legs, because if I'm going to be a hot mess, I'm going to be a cinematic hot mess.

I bought a new dress today that actually had functional pockets.

For a split second, I felt like I'd won the lottery. Then I remembered I still had to carry my purse for all the things that wouldn't fit in those 'functional' pockets.