I woke up on Friday morning with the worst feeling in the world: a raging case of food poisoning. I spent the next six hours barricaded in my bathroom, projectile vomiting. Fifteen times.
Did I mention that it was 1:30 in the morning? And that I really had to be at work the next day?
Needless to say, work didn't happen. I called the school switchboard at 5 a.m., just to let them know I cared. I e-mailed all the teachers I could reach, before sprinting back to the cool, cruel recess of the bathroom.
All of that changed when I met you. You took away my pain. You filled my very soul (and my stomach). Oh, Sierra Mist, how I love you.
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