Indiana Needs A Hug

I don’t know why but I like Indiana better because it’s kind of terrible and sad but in a really pathetic, rather than grandiose, way. (I think it’s because I feel like Indiana has no room to judge me. Kind of like how if I show up to Walmart in a sweaty tank top with disheveled hair it won’t be the worst thing Walmart sees.)

I was browsing Meet-Up and I should have been keeping a tally of how many groups were “X activity plus alcohol.” I’ll admit Drunken Knitwits sounds hilarious and almost makes me want to take up knitting or crochet, except that I hate that kind of arts & crafts and I know it’s a bad idea for me to be drunk with pointy objects at hand that I could stick in someone. (I mean, I can almost guarantee they’d deserve it, but still.)

Sadly, the group I actually wanted to check out had disappeared, but apparently I could, instead, check out a group devoted to snuggles. Apparently some people just need to be held when they realize they live in Indiana.

My husband messaged me with amazement about how many people had shown up at 10am on a Sunday when the cat cafe opened, but I’m not surprised at all. Not everyone can seek solace via petting strangers, so petting cats is going to be the preferable option. 😂

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