Shawarma and Little Waylon Blue

Ugh. More flying. More california. and shawarma is not such a hot idea. Someone asked how I was doing today, and I said "icky with huge tits. Kind of like me. only hungover. with huge tits. well, actually, just exactly like me. except hungover without trying so hard."

I got upgraded to first class and didn't think twice about missing out on free wine. Nope. I just drank that free OJ because I knew it would put me right to sleep for an hour. and so it did.

And then...shawarma on Murphy Avenue. Not so hot. Maybe it was the grape leaves, but it's not sitting right.

I drank a gallon of water today. And have eaten more beef in the last week than the whole past year. I might birth a cow.

Am still facing denial. I go to the doctor in one whole week away. I don't want to wait a whole week. Am also having panic attacks related to visions of twins. Oh my. twins. I'll cross the bridges when I get there. Or whatever.

No more shawarma.