What does your Friday look like?…
I was breaking out in hives. Shaking. Clawing at my skin. ‘What the hell is this?’ I said to Sarge. ‘Red splotches. On my neck. Should I do this? I think I’m gonna be sick. Hold my hand.’ And then I grabbed his hand. Maybe broke his fingers. A little. No, I was not peeing on a stick. I was not choosing table linens for the wedding dinner (which is actually the wedding breakfast, but never mind). None of those…
