An 11

Sundays are like brush burns from slip-n-sliding. A total pain, but yet fun! Like you had fun, but the end result is ultimately tragic.
The end of last week was nightmarish. If I were in the E.R. and the nurse asked me to describe the pain on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being no pain and 10 being unbearable, it would have been an 11.
I was however determined to have a good weekend, but fate was against me. That's literally what my fortune said. I want to find the little Chinese man who decided to put that in a fortune cookie. They are suppose to tell me that I'm about to get money or meet the love of my life, fortune cookie is the name, not misfortune.
The tanning bed totally betrayed me, like when Slater started dating Kelly on Saved by the Bell betrayal! My entire body was literally burnt to a crisp. I had plans to go out last night that I had to change because wearing real clothes was literally painful. Thankfully today wasn't as bad. I still didn't wear jeans to the St. Patty's Day parade.
I'm currently trying to fight the inevitably of tomorrow by listening to Fleetwood Mac while prolonging my bath. I'm not sure how successful this is going to be.

I missed my pockets for two days, but seriously, look a my face.