sometimes, when you have a pounding headache after starting a new job while running on three-and-a-half-hours of sleep and sporting what you're convinced is a cancerous mass in your underarm, the God's smile down upon you in the form of your ex-boyfriend -- who is clearly having a bad skin-hair-and-shirt day -- driving by you at the exact moment that he happens to be picking his nose.
some days are just good days, you know?
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