This is turning out to be the worst birthday week ever.
First, my sister called yesterday and told me that she had been planning on buying me Heather Bailey’s Trash Ties™ for months, but now, since I wrote about them on my blog, she’s not going to. Because now I’ll “never believe that she was going to buy them in the first place.” I tried to convince her that yes, I would believe her, but to no avail. I blew it.
I hate when that happens.
Then last night, to drown my sorrows, I ate an entire bag of Peanut Butter M&Ms™, which was a very bad idea indeed. Because not only did I throw off my record of not eating sugar (I’d made it 12 hours!!!), but it gave me a Pain.
That’s right. A Pain. I’ve got a Pain, and nothing I have done has helped. I’ve tried sleeping. And staying in bed. It was still there when I woke up this wretched morning.
I thought maybe it was just acid reflux, or maybe heartburn, but it isn’t anywhere near my heart.
Which means I’m going to die. Me and The Pain, in all our misery.
No Trash Ties™, and you’re going to die at 22. Happy birthday.