Not that any of this has ever happened to me before, but … Let’s say you have a fight with your boyfriend. And let’s imagine this fight is taking place at about 2 o’ clock in the morning. You are mad, tired, and maybe just a little bit drunk. This is not the time to discuss anything, but in this particular case, it is especially not a good time to talk of suitcases – As in: do not go rummaging through your closet in the early morning hours — still wearing the little black dress and stupid, but gorgeous, black pumps from the night before — looking for your suitcase so you can feign packing, because your boyfriend said he “kinda liked” the play you saw together and you hated it. And you’re pretty sure this means you’re incompatible.

And then, after not finding your suitcase, do not ask him, “Is there some reason why you moved my suitcase? Are you hiding it from me so that I’m forced to take a plastic bag to the Holiday Inn Express?” (I think this product placement thing is awesome and I should get paid for it).

And do not follow this up by asking if he has $112 so that “I can afford to stay someplace nice where I don’t have to sleep next to an insensitive jerk!”

I would further strongly advise against claiming that you are mad because he has no respect for your opinion, because really, you do not give a shit about the play or anyone’s opinion of it. You just think he liked it because the girl playing the maid was super hot. He was clearly drooling during the scene where she kept bending over to dust.

Finally, just for fun, go ahead and confess that the real reason you’re acting like a complete nut-in-the-box is because:

A.) You started drinking many cocktails at happy hour, followed by two pre-show drinks at the theater and then another during intermission, leaving you totally free from the restraints of your frontal lobe and entirely at the mercy of your emotions (B & C are really secondary, It’s mostly all about A)

B.) You were standing right next to him when he told that stranger at the bar, the one that was moving to Guatemala, “Oh you are gonna love the Guatemalan ladies. Guatemalan women are Uh-mazing.” You are pale and made of powdered milk. You look straight ahead and stare blankly at your boyfriend’s insensitive, oblivious mouth. You take a giant swig of bourbon.

C.) After the play, you said, “Ya know, something sweet sounds really yummy right now” and he said, “Ug. Not to me. Dinner’s still sitting in my stomach like a brick.” He then proceeded to drive home where you decided to eat ice-encrusted orange sherbet straight from the carton. This was proof that he never listens and does not love you. You feel fat, pale and of course, unloved. You are now officially insane.

So the next time you think about having a “fight” after consuming numerous and varied mixed drinks (especially when you have the tolerance of a baby panda bear) and eating disgusting, freezer-burned, flavorless goop until you feel bloated and ugly, just shut up instead.

Go stuff some chocolate in your mouth and ask him for a neck rub. Because there’s a very good chance that by morning, you’ll have forgotten all about being mad and feeling unloved. You might still feel a little fat and maybe like your eyeballs are really two hairballs the cat puked up, but overall, you’re better off. And your “always right” score will still be intact. Not that you’re ever wrong of course, bourbon or no bourbon.