Getting Old

Something must be wrong with me. Maybe I’m getting old. Like old. I’m going to be almost 30. I thought everything was cool being 26 but then this happened. THIS HAPPENED. I need to tone down on the italics.

But there I was, sitting in a cafe along with an iced coffee, enjoying my book of short stories when BOOM. I drooled. I DROOLED. I know, right? What? Only babies and old people drool. Well, I drool in my sleep but that’s because I’m sleeping. Babies and old people drool when they’re awake.

And that’s what happened to me.

Here’s the thing. My drool was so unbelievably powerful that it ruined my book! I can’t read that paragraph anymore! I have no idea what Eric leaned his face ag–what? Huh? Oh no.

I should just go kill myself now.


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