I want to be sleeping beauty. I want to crawl into bed and stay there until a handsome prince crawls in next to me and wakes me with true loves first kiss. I don't know how it could be true love if I'm not conscious and have no say in the matter, but I can't claim to have any understanding of romantic love. So, maybe that's how it works.
Staying in bed seems like a really good idea right now. My mind is sluggish. My stomach is pissed at me. My body is sore. And I have to wonder if you all dropped me down a flight of stairs. My eye is black and blue from vomiting for hours upon hours. My pride has flown the coop. And I don't even want to find out what my co-pay is on that ER visit.
I've learned my lesson on mixing lithium and 4 long island ice teas. I suppose it's a good way to become sleeping beauty, but not quite what I had in mind.
I apologize to those who bore witness, buckets, and me. And I praise my saviour Sheila for being an angel to me. And to Kristen, what a weird way to start a friendship. Oh well, if my life weren't weird it wouldn't be mine.
My hope for the day to extend my diet beyond red kool aid.
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