I cried real hard yesterday, and then passed out on my bed like a chump because I was emotionally exhausted from the breakdown that happened. This morning I discovered a plot to throw me a going away party, and almost had second cryfest. Instead I made it home and determined that if I'm at risk of passing out on my bed again due to emotions, I may as well make a giant glass of creamsicle drank with extra pinnacle vodka and just pass out that way. Same end result, more orangey goodness.
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Spelunking is not for the faint of heart, as Not-So-Tall Tales of the ICU will tell you. This blogger is way funnier than I am, although I guess that isn't really saying much is it?
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I strongly dislike packing, and will put if off for a long as possible. I will probably sell all of my furniture and be sleeping on the floor before I decide to actually start consolidating three years' worth of shit into boxes.
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Why didn't anyone hear Helen Keller when she fell off the cliff?
She was wearing mittens!
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2 comments:
I generally find that I prefer alcohol over tears in just about every scenario. Apparently the Betty Ford clinic doesn't agree, but I would counter that with the fact that they don't know me and they don't know my life. Also, Hood Hospital. Come out here and drink booze at my house.
I doubt I'm funnier but thanks for the mention :) Love your blog and have been following for a while. Good luck in your new endeavors...can't wait to read all about it!
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