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Mizz Erna

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Tuesday, April 09, 2002

So this year's birthday present is bronchitis. Which basically means coughing so much you swear your insides are going to come out with both lungs. It means being so damn sick to death of tea, no amount of lemon, honey, or salabat can make it better. It means being sick to death of cough syrup. It means a weak body, but surprisingly, not too horrible a sipon. Have I mentioned that I am so damn sick of coughing? I would just like to get through one night of not coughing so much it wakes me up every 5 minutes. Pretty please? Can I just have that? Of course this year's birthday present could also be a wake up call in disguise. Quit smoking anyone? Happy Birthday to me. I hope I'm in a better mood tomorrow. I am alive, after all.


Oh, and happy belated birthday, Ari:) Welcome back:)


posted by Erna  # 12:02:00 AM
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