I think I need a medical

I spoke to my cousin Ryan this morning. I left him a message to call me ASAP because I was dying. Dying of a broken laptop. He's an IT genius and I've done something horrible to my machine and I left him a very suicidal message.

He called me back just as I was putting on my jumper-dress. When my head finally popped out of the too tight roll-neck, tortoise style, I answered the phone quickly so that it wouldn’t ring off.



Ryan then said to me, did I catch you at a bad time, you sound out of breath. Well… no! I said to him not a bad time at all. I was just putting on my dress. He burst out laughing and said I sounded as if I just finished jumping up and down on a trampoline. He then asked me if the dress was too tight and did I have to wrestle with it. Wrestle with it? WTF!

I looked at my reflection in the mirror and I noticed that the dress may have been a little too tight; like it was painted on, but the thought of me puffing and panting and sounding out of breath after a simple act of putting on clothes filled me with dread.

I might have to go for a medical or something, maybe I need a peak flow reading to check out my lung capacity.

Maybe I’m dying of emphysema.

Maybe I need a bigger dress!!