You Know You’re Sickly When . . .
2004 September 23
The cake you usually bake to perfection proceeds to fall apart right before your eyes. You don’t freak out, however, like you’ve done in the past. Instead, you shrug and paste it back together with the help of cream cheese frosting.
I am not myself.
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Well, one more day and then you can just chill over the weekend and beat this thing for good. What was the cake for, anyway?
Yeah, I’m going to take it easy. I’ll probably phase some running in over the weekend, but three miles a day at most. No five mile jaunts, and I won’t run any if I’m still feeling bad. The bellydancing, by the way, helped cheer me up because we were all laughing like idiots at our clumsy movements. And it wasn’t strenuous. Oh, the cake’s for M’s birthday – he’s 15 tomorrow. Why are you at work so late? I thought you had the meeting and Kerry meet-up?
I posted the above when I came back here briefly (had a few minutes to kill) between those two events.
Oh, admit it. You find it hard to leave such a warm and welcoming place. ;)
Hope the meeting and the meet-up went well.