I once told a friend that I determine if my day was good based on whether or not I cried in the shower, he later said I was the second craziest girl he knows. I couldn’t decide if I was happy that I’m not the craziest or pissed that I’m not number 1. I never get to be number 1 at anything…
The more import question really is why am I friends with someone who thinks I’m crazy?
Why is HE friends with someone who he thinks is crazy? This leads me to believe that the “crazy” is just part of my charm.