So... I guess I misunderstood Rico, and I guess he didn't mean what he said in a mean way, so I guess I sort of apologized to him over Fredrica's amazing chicken.
I don't know what's wrong with me, or why I'm so confused lately. Remember that cheese I kept from my birthday? Well, now when I look at it, I don't see a parking garage or some fancy slice of cake anymore--I see her face. Don't laugh at me. I know it looks nothing like her face. What is this anyway? It's like, I try to think about my mansion, and I think, "Fredrica." I try to think about what Kip and I should do to hang out, and I think, "Fredrica." I look in my kitchen, and I most definitely think, "Fredrica." What's wrong with me??
Maybe I need to go see a psychiatrist. Maybe there's something wrong with my head. No, a doctor, cause it's something wrong with my chest. Every time I think about her I get little flutters in my stomach and my heart goes faster. I'm sick, that's it. I'm sick, and I need a doctor. I have the best doctor in the world, and he'll know what to do. Maybe it was all those cookies I ate last night. That makes sense.
