Why can’t I be a big flake? Why, why, why? Why do I have this darned sense of duty that always forces me to do the right thing. Sigh.
I’ve gotten myself into a big one and not sure if I can get out of it. Maybe I’ll get the flu tonight.
I have 48 hours to find moon boots, a curly brown wig, aviator glasses, and learn the Napoleon Dynamite dance. And then I have to perform it at a church party. Tomorrow night. On a stage. In front of people.
Save me.
Do you have a cold? Come and cough into my cereal. Please.
