Could you please, please, please not decide to make me feel as if I'm going to fucking die until Friday? I have to finish that paper today and it's not really going to happen if I'm spending half my day running in and out of the bathroom. Plus, Mr. Love's fabulous Liza holiday party is tomorrow night, and there's no way in hell I'm missing that.

So yeah, hold back on treating me like I've eaten nothing but Olestra for three days straight. It would be much appreciated.

Sincerely,

Fussbudget

(I apologize if this is all TMI, dear readers)