St. Patrick's Day should have been a delightful day for me. I had so many amazing plans - to the point that a friend and I were referring to it as "The Best Day Ever." Alas, I jinxed it and found myself curled up in bed the night before with a 102 degree temp and the feeling similar to Manny beating on my bones with a baseball bat. Needless to say, I did not drink. I couldn't. And I haven't for an entire week. There was that one time that I attempted to sip a Boddington's but it later visited the the public library parking lot when I was forced to pull over and hack up my insides.
I am feeling better - thankfully. My quest shall continue. Until then... drink one for me.
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