Can’t move. Can’t think. Can’t hardly breathe.

And the gorram doctor — I actually broke down and called a professional — can’t see me until tomorrow morning.

I thought about going to the ER — it really feels like that — but without a bullet in my gut I’d probably just lay around in even more misery there.

Woe!

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This entry was posted on Wednesday, February 13th, 2008, 1:36 pm and is filed under Homelife. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.