My mortgage company is a bunch of freakin’ liars, the zipper’s broken on my white eyelet dress, I’m pretty sure I’m desperately in need of an intelligent lawyer, and my car’s got a bunch of black rubber scuffs all over the side of it from a teensy little incident that happened on the road today. Oh, and my friend Michelle’s pet lobster died.

I think I need a little Jimmy Buffett in my life.

In other news, a few months ago, I kept getting all these dumb canker sores in my mouth. And I seriously couldn’t tell if they were from drinking orange juice or being stressed out. So, I stopped drinking orange juice, and I stopped getting stressed out…and they completely went away until this weekend, when I drank a whole bunch of mimosas and got super stressed out. And now I’ve got another stupid canker sore, and I still can’t tell if it’s from orange juice or being stressed out. And while this certainly isn’t quite as traumatic a catch-22 as most things, it’s still super annoying. And my mouth hurts.

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