Last night I was going to go over and help Beth with packing, in preparation of the big move on Sunday. I don’t know what happened, if it was the fact that I didn’t get a lot of sleep or if it was something I ate, but I ended up not going because I got sick. Long story short, while I am still feeling nauseous, I’m not throwing up anymore and now I feel like crap for a completely other reason.

Beth has always been there for me. Always. Even if she is sick, even if it means driving from Fridley to Saint Paul to pick me up, even if it means borrowing me money because I screwed up my checkbook once again. She has never been too busy for me or blown me off because she found cooler friends to hang out with or told people horrible lies because it’s fun to make Dana cry.

I’m sorry, Beth. I should have been there last night. I will be there tonight. It will not kill me to sleep on the floor, that’s what ibuprofen is for. And it’s not like you didn’t help me pack and move an entire apartment in 12 hours, in July, without air conditioning.

I don’t think friends get much better than you and Keem. I love you both. Now maybe I can just prove it for once without being so concerned about myself.