I am giggling like a novitiate at a rodeo.
I am better off laughing it off.
Drowning out my distresses in laughter.
" Dear diary, I blah blah. I. Blah. I. Blah Me me blah. Me. People blah I blah blah. I. I. Blah. Myself. "
I feel like doing something similar to this^. Fortune smiles now I have the strength to refrain.
Today began well enough. I instinctively knew someone was oversleeping and should be at work, so I woke them. I didn't make it class (complicated). I did manage to write a short story and three poems over my morning coffee(alright, it took a bit longer, I had three cups of coffee). I felt confident amidst three coordinated outfits and completed my french homework. It was only ten in the morning. I sat down at my vanity. I reached for my Coco Mademoiselle. As a applied my perfume and glanced at my reflection, something was amiss. I stared in the mirror. I gasped in horror. "**** ****. What *** **** ** *r**g **th **?
It cannot be.
Trouble was now lurking in my tranquil bedroom paradise.
I am the shamed owner of an attached earlobe. I am also the shamed owner of an unattached earlobe! One is a recessive gene and one is a dominant gene. How has this escaped my notice for so long? I scrutinize everything, including myself. Yes, it is so subtle it took me over two minutes to convince my mother of the problem existing, but it still really bothers me. I am seriously displeased and I think the best course of action would be for me to obsess over it a while. I may come to terms with it someday.
I have decided that if a month goes by and it is no longer the first thing I look at in the mirror all will be well. If that doesn't happen I will say goodbye to my paycheck and hello to Dr. Nievert.
Someone please recommend me a surgeon who will see me next week.