What I Did On My Vacation

Apparently instead of a tee-shirt from Arizona, I brought home, a cold.

I don’t like being sick. I don’t have time to be sick.

When I’m sick, the world is ending and nothing is right: no one likes me, I’m thoroughly unwantable, and all of my food tastes icky. I have the attention span of a gnat, so not even Doctor Who will keep my interest. Someone has replaced my brain with cotton batting and my mouth is full of Brillo.

I need to be spoiled.


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