I knew something was wrong when I couldn’t find my heels. It’s not that I didn’t know where they were – it’s just that every time I sat down on the floor of my closet, I totally couldn’t get up.
“Quinn,” I said, “I think I’m sick.”
“Nooo,” she answered. “You’re just having breakup flashbacks.”
“This feels sooo much worse,” I moaned.
“Fashion Week anxiety?”
So I made her a deal. I would get dressed (Mexican floral print baby doll dress, nude fishnets, Vans, hoodie), come over (which takes 2 iPod songs), and take my temp. If I had no fever, I was out. And there was no way I had a fever.
Except, of course, I did. 100 degrees even. Grrr.
So I’m still in the hoodie, and the babydoll dress, in my bed. And you all get to tell me what happened last night.
Ready?
Go!
[TYLENOL CHEWABLES - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
Oy vey! I had 102 degree fever all last week (strep). No fun! Do you need chicken soup? You must hydrate!
you were missed. that’s what happened.
feel better, IS.
You missed me being held back by two people as I went to punch the fizzuck out of some rude drunk ho at Orchard Bar. Grr.
um, you missed me at Orchard Bar friday night not dancing to madonna so i could stay at the bar and talk to a certain boy. now thats how you KNOW im “hung up” on someone, huh?
present exchange pt. 2 this week?