Chocolate genius
Have you ever had this stuff? It's magically delicious, people. It should steal Lay's motto, because truly, no one can eat just one.
The one great thing about getting sick is the morning that you wake up and realize you're not sick anymore. The congestion and fogginess have not just declined, but actually dissipated altogether. I probably could have woken up yesterday with that feeling, except that I went a little too many rounds with Mr. Belvedere on Saturday night, and I'm not talking about that portly dude who decided to be a butler for a middle-class family. I thought drinking expensive vodka would be a good way to keep the drinking in check, since there's only so many drinks you can afford at $10 a pop. The stupidity of that rationale should be apparent to anyone who, in college, would start out with a few Sam Adams, and end the night with Milwaukee's Beast.
The bad part of my Sunday is that I had such a headache that I had to sit around and relive the events of the evening before, and that, of course, leads to my typical overanalysis. I know I should not do it, and yet, leave me to my own devices and it's impossible not to go in this direction. Give me some room, cut some rope. Give me just two minutes from under the microscope. Is it a girly thing? Or is it just a sign of someone with too much time on their hands? This is the flow of what went through my head yesterday:
Now that my head no longer hurts, and I'm no longer sick with the flu, I've conveniently pushed all of those parallel streams of thought into the back of my head. Whoever said avoidance is a bad way to deal with conflict can kiss my grits.
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