11 de agosto de 2006

When the going gets tough


Here’s what happened on Monday, before arriving and leaving Lisbon.
I was washing my car when I receive a call from mana-boa. I agreed to meet her in the hospital, to give blood.
I should say I hate needles (“I’m using the word ‘hate’, here”) but, deep down, I’m a decent human being, and I wanted to do the right thing.
The whole thing ended up with me throwing up in the cafeteria, shaking and sweating like a pig. I learned that lesson: “When the going gets tough, the tough get going”.

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2 comentários:

Anónimo disse...

Bem, por mim prefiro agulhas a um remédio amargo! Mas fica-te bem seres solidária e partilhares o teu sangue com quem precisa. Beijinhos Mãe

L. disse...

Obrigada mama!!

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