I ruined two cakes today. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t speak happily all day. I worked myself to death. I ruined everything, apparently?
The movie wasn’t the best either. It was the first time I’ve ever wanted to get up and leave; I liked the book, but the movie was just bad.
Not even sixty-seven worked today.
What if you had a stomach ache that would never go away? I decided that it wouldn’t be so bad, since you’d eventually get used to it. We do, after all, get used to living.
Wait, it gets even better: “michael, will you please get help.” My life is complete.