Diary of A HG.
After 1 assessment. After 1 report.
We succumb to the evils of McDonalds. Oh the fattening contents of its chips, so satisfyingly salty and crispy... Rachel likes soggy ones. I bet they were drenched in oil. Or maybe not.
I can feel the salt running around like mad men in my throat, setting it on fire. It's only a matter of time before a bonfire starts in there. I tried quelling it with juice. Nothing swelled down. In fact, if anything, my stomach bloated even more. My beer belly baby is growing.
Oh the perils of after-report depression state. That is when one can take as many chips as one wants.
We broke the chips, and shared the coke. It was a day to mourn for our losses. Except for one person. Wink Wink