Conspiracy Theory

So I look on the TV tray masquerading as a poor excuse for a kitchen table this morning, at the gargantuan pile of mail that perpetually resides there, and what do I spy but this week's Time Out with a gigantic wedding cake on the cover and a huge title callously screaming "NY WEDDINGS" in my half asleep face.

How lovely to begin my day with yet another reminder that everyone in the fucking world is getting married right now and I am alone with my man hating cat, from whom it just might behoove me to take a few lessons.