If you ever feel bad about ur life remember the time very, very long ago (today) when I was incredibly stressed out for two weeks because the cool barista told me she hoped I “had an unfortunate day” every morning, so I thought she hated me. Two weeks is how long it took me to piece together that my last name is Baudelaire. Was I clued in when she told me to watch out for men with ankle tattoos? No. No, I was not.