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Breakfast and Dad's birfday How do emails addressed to "[email protected]" end up coming to me? Seriously? My name and email address is nowhere in that To: line, yet... Weird. Tomorrow is dad's birfday, so everybody wish him a happy one. I won't tell you how old he's turning, I'll just tell you that he is, indeed, older than me. We're about to go get some breakfast, I think. I thought we were, at least. It seems that the "going" part is progressing very slowly. Ah well. I don't feel too hot. I feel kind of cold, actually. But not as cold as everyone else in the family. My nose is all sniffly, and my throat hurts, and I think my voice is going out. Sigh. Why do I have to feel crappy on my breaks? I don't get it. You would think that the non-stress of being on vacation would HELP me not be sick, but whatever. So close to being 16, it's killing me. Seriously. SO CLOSE. I turn 16 just in time to not be on vacation anymore. Okay, breakfast time. <-Ghost-> |
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