The package arrived, ice cold, despite coming off a truck that I'm fairly certain came from being parked in Hades all day, this evening and I'm oddly like a kid in a candy shop, laying out my meds and taking them out of their cute boxes and carefully tucking them back in and saying goodnight. The amount of syringes though? I feel almost guilty that there are junkies, poking the same rusty needle into their eye day after day** and I have enough syringes to keep Keith Richards supplied for a few days at least.
Sadly, the nail polish was not included in my package.
*Why is it that, when you become an adult, surprises stop being the fun kind?
**That is how being a junky works, right?