My boyfriend tells me I should've either puked out the window in front of everyone on 16th street or stopped and gotten out and puked in the bike lane in front of everyone on 16th street. He says he wouldn't have puked in his car. Well, you really don't know what you're going to do until you actually are faced with ralphing while driving. It's also difficult to navigate when hurling. Like a sneeze, your eyes sort of close. I'm surprised no one died. To my knowledge. I suppose I should watch the local news tonight.
Of course I have an interview tomorrow and I have to drive to it in, what else, my vommed-in car. I did my best to clean it, but you know it never goes away. I bank on looking fly and smelling nice to get me jobs since I've the interviewing skills of a deaf/mute. Does it really matter how fly I look tomorrow if I smell like puke? Fucking A.