It's four o'clock in the morning. I'm exhausted, but I can't sleep. I have this wretched case of heartburn and I don't know why. My esophagus is on fire. It's like I'm about to throw up. Gross, I know. I'm sorry for subjecting you to this.
So I've been thinking about words. I feel like we overuse them. They're starting to mean less and less. So when I say that I want to cry from this heartburn, you don't understand. My eyes are literally filling with tears.
I'm never eating anything with any kind of remote flavor again.
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