Effing HUNGRY.

Pretend I'm the tiger and the baby
is a sausage, egg and cheese biscuit.

I have a doctor's appointment at 1:15 –– just a physical –– and I'm supposed to fast until then so they can do blood work. Apparently, that sounded fine when I made the appointment six months ago, but now that I have six HOURS of an empty stomach ahead of me (not to mention that I'm dieting, which means there's not a whole lot in there anyway) I am NOT. HAPPY.

A hungry Mandy is a hateful Mandy. So my co-workers have that to look forward to this morning.