On Tuesday, you will get a faint feeling that can only be reminiscent of the moments leading up to taking the Fitness Pacer Test.
You will run out of toilet paper at the most inopportune time.
On Wednesday, you will receive and ignore an old-fashioned chain email. You will forget about it until Friday night, when you will begin to have rotten luck for the next seventeen years. So long, glory days!
This week, you will have the honor of having a seventh grader write a Wattpad fanfiction about your life.
Your week ahead can only be described as “chaotic evil.”
On Friday, you will have a vivid dream that the past two months were fake, and you will awaken the next day thinking it was real life. How sad.
You will be haunted by an image from your past of the puberty variety all day on Monday.
In passing, a stranger will tell you you have “crab hands,” and you will spend the rest of your Thursday thinking about it.
On Tuesday, your mother will “accidentally” stumble upon your diary. She will relentlessly ask you who a “plug” is.
By no choice of your own, a psychic will eat up your Friday predicting that your most trusted prophet will come to be your therapist.
On Wednesday, you will stub your toe on every doorframe of your house.
You will be convicted of being a “huge gossip” by your father on Friday. He will tell you this as he whispers about “Lou from work being a huge stinker.”