I felt only “mostly bad” until the doctor said “yep, you have strep throat” and now I feel like total garbage. Next time I’m going to have him tell me that what’s causing this sore throat is an excess of hotness.
Meh. That’s not really very funny but I’ve got strep. They’re not all going to be winners.
In other news, a new study shows that the number one key to a happy marriage is to pick up your own fucking socks every once in awhile. Those dishes aren’t going to wash themselves, asshole. From now on I’m going to keep a written list of every chore I do and then nag Victor like a harpy until he does his equal share. Oh my God, we’re going to be so happy.
PS. My husband thinks that people might think that I’m actually griping about him above so I thought I’d clarify that he doesn’t even wear socks.