How to give me a heart attack in four simple steps:
1) Be a distant temp job acquaintance of mine and mention your love of chick lit (five years ago.)
2) Wholeheartedly agree when I ask if you'd like to borrow some books (five years ago.)
3) Read and return said books (five years ago.)
4) Accidentally leave NAKED PICTURES OF YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS IN SAID BOOKS, WHICH I FINALLY FIND NOW THAT I'M UNPACKING FIVE YEARS LATER.
Splat.
Am dead now.
On the up side, I'm a lot less embarrassed about all the pet costumes I've been unpacking.
