Who Wants To Run Me Over With An Eighteen-Wheeler?

Oh, wait, didn't someone already do that?

Apparently, I am a lazy-ass hypochondriac. (That's a person who thinks they're sick all the time, in case you didn't know.)

Dr. Karen says, "I've known you all your life." As if. I barfed on you when I was a few months old, and I let you take my blood a week ago. That completely constitutes as my whole life. Dr. Karen says, "Mind over matter. Nothing is medically wrong with you." I was supposed to go back to school this afternoon. But I convinced my Mom to let me stay home. Dr. Karen says to my Mom, "You need to stop being a marshmallow." My Mom says, "Gracie, you need to roast me, so I won't be a soft marshmallow anymore." Too bad she doesn't know that roasted marshmallows only have a crispy outer shell, but the inside is softer than before. That shell is very thin. I just have to figure out how to crack it...

I've just realized I'm psychobabbling about marshmallows. I've been listening to "Feel Good Inc." by Gorillaz on repeat for like, 20 minutes now. I really need to sleep.

Hopefully I can avoid school again tomorrow (today?). And maybe get some actual work done. Yay. :) G'night. -me