Ladies and Gentlemen, I am falling to pieces. Literally. Well, kind of.
Besides the whole eyebrow incident, I have a rash on my forearm that won't go away. It's weird, because initially I thought it was a group of mosquito bites. Now, I 'm not sure. My boss had me convinced that I had chickenpox, and that I'd then get shingles, and then, well, just dye my hair blue and call it a day. And naturally it showed up late Monday night, because Monday at 12:20, I was at the dermatologist's office, getting a checkup and my eyebrow fixed.
And my hair is a giant mess- I haven't gotten it done since the last time I complained. But I want to go to Kev's cousin's wife, but I'm afraid to call her. I don't think she'll know who I am. And it's worse, because I keep putting it off and my sister is looking to get her hair cut with me. So you'd think that would be the impetus to just frickin call already.
Am I alone in my fear of cold calling people? I am also sitting on calling the doctor, even though today my rashie rash is so grody that I've worn a longsleeved tunic. In July. It's going up to 89ish today.
I just got over my fear of returning things. I have given away countless pairs of pants because they didn't fit right- ahem, Old Navy outlet, ahem, not the bargain you think it is when the pieces are all wonky. Anyway, talk to me, are you also afraid to call, for say, a pizza, an appointment, anything like that?