No, I'm talking about that last shot of tequila or walking away from the $900 pair of sparkly Louboutins. Nope, not that.
I'm talking when that first tickling in the back of your throat happens. And you're sneezing every five minutes for no good reason. It's at those moments that you inherently know that you really, really need to pass up on dinner with the crew but since you haven't seen them in 'oh-so-long'... Sigh.
When I woke up on Saturday, I KNEW I should've stayed my light-headed butt in bed and minded my business. But no sir, there I was trying to be Superwoman. Finishing up my confounded taxes, going shopping and hitting up not one but two birthday parties in a single bound. Mmm-hmm, just like that. Crazy.
So now I'm sitting here with a pounding headache, sucking spit (cause of course, there ain't healthy grocery the first up in the fridge.). I honestly keep trying to get up and be productive but something about the bile in the back of my throat just makes that seem like a really bad idea. Sigh. I am so over myself right now.
Can somebody send me a care package, please?