Drama Queen.

I am on my death bed right now.

Seroiusly, people.  This is not a test.  (Except it kind of is, because I really am going to be fine.)

Exhibit A:

My mom called me last night from the store, and asked if I needed her to pick up anything.  I responded, "No, I think your time would be best spent looking for a polt for me in the cemetary." 

Exhibit B:

I was up until 4:30am trying to figure out how I could make Top Ramen from the couch.  And I did not succeed.

Exhibit C:

I have blogged for two, consecutive, days in a row.


I hate being sick.  Usually I wouldn't mind too much, but I think over the course of the last few days I've watched all the Netflix I can handle--and I'm all caught up on my Facebook stalking. 

Tonight is the Christmas party for my husband's work.  I really  want to go.  They are going to a local hibachi grill, and I am craving to see a volcanic onion.  Last time we went,  Mista T. and I ate this:

Plus like, three more plates.  It was one of the best moments of my life.  For my last meal, I would like to eat it again.

So please, if you have a moment, send me some good vibes for a miraculious recovery.

That is, unless you want me to continue to blog all the time.  Then you can keep wishing me illness and impending death.