McDonald’s tastes good. So good, in fact, that you forego perfectly healthy pre-packed lunches in favor of a quick run over to grab a quarter pounder.

You’re sleeping 20 hours a day, and wishing for more.

You’re holding your two-year-old like a “little baby” and anticipating the small bundle.

You’re not speaking in complete thoughts. “Bring me a.” “See you; I’m going to McDonald’s for!” “Did?”

The dog might die. If he barks one more time and wakes you up, that is.