The only thing I worked on this weekend was trying not to lose my cookies and keep my head from exploding.
On Friday, I woke up with a stomach ache that I thought might be food poisoning. That ache turned into full-blown sweats, chills, fever and all the other nasty stuff that comes with the flu.
Since I couldn’t function like a human, Mark had to work on the house by himself.
He saw this when he came back.
I fell down the stairs. I’m 31 years old and I’ve been walking for a really long time…and yet I slipped and fell and it sounded like a huge boulder landed in my parents’ foyer.
I spent Sunday night icing my back and arm. I think this classifies as the worst weekend ever.
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