Apparently I took a page out of Cate's book before I had even read it. (Post out of Cate's blog?... No, that's a frickin' stupid saying.)
As soon as I got home from work, I got on chat and this conversation with my friend Cassie ensued:
and how's JJ today?
FlutterBy: no idea
but he's been there since 7am
me: did you notice how i beat the hell out of him in a dark alley last night?
FlutterBy: thank you
me: no problem
he took me for serious, then
Uh, let me pause here to say that I, indeed, did not beat the hell out of anyone last night, dark alley or otherwise. And if I did, I was just being a supportive friend. Her jerkoff plumber can't seem to find the time to do the job he's been paid for.
FlutterBy: uh huh
me: as i was kicking him in the stomach i was yelling you! will! work! all! day! at! FlutterBy's! house!
and that bitch was all WHO'S FLUTTERBY!?!?!
me: bc i feel tons better
So, yeah, the point I was making was that those kids gave me the plague, but I survived. There was a full day, though, where I got out of the lounge chair once. In total. After having slept there. And by "slept" I mean "stayed up all night vomiting". Ever been in a car accident? One where you really get hit? (Or, I suppose, do the hitting, but I wouldn't know about that.) If not, you feel like it was you, and not your car, that was hit by a truck. That's how I felt that whole day. But I can walk again now. So yay! I guess that's less faking it and more real joy. I'm willing to share.