To be quite honest, I like the home alone, laying on the floor, blaring disgustingly sappy love songs, and singing to the ceiling moments…You know. That empty pint of your favorite ice cream spilled over and the same spoon you like to use has been hurled across the room…And you don’t want to hear yourself think. Most importantly, you don’t even want to feel…So you belt out the wrong lyrics at the top of your lungs. And for that dramatic moment, your life doesn’t seem so bad, because at least you’ve got this.