the gods are laughing
at what? at me and my miserable life. don't call me paranoid. i know it's true.
so guess how i spent my weekend? sick. again. wtf?!?! when i was attending that germ infested cesspool named Texas Tech, i wasn't this sick, and yet now i can't go two minutes without catching Ebola or some other disgusting illness. so here's a brief run down of my weekend.
Friday 5:00PM- i had been feeling a little scratch in my throat and had been coughing all day, but i don't feel too bad. i actually hope that was the worst of it so i can do everything i have planned for the weekend. i don't have extravagant plans, mind you. just some peeps over to the maxi pad and maybe a little shopping and what not with the sis. i am still a cock-eyed optimist at this point.
Friday 7:00PM- i'm in a fever induced delirium. it's not too bad. it's making me playful and somewhat friendly with my friends which is a novel concept for me. perhaps this cold isn't so bad.
Saturday 5:00AM- oh, the agony. who knew a head could hold so much mucous? who knew the body would cycle through hot and cold flashes with the rapidity of a menopausal bi-polar on meth?
Saturday 10:00AM- my damn peeps kept texting and calling until i turned the phone off. who needs them anyway? they're worthless life suckers who can't take a hint that i'm on my deathbed and don't want to chit chat. my weasel is starving, but i don't have the energy to feed him. he's staring at me from his cage with those beady eyes. i think he can see my germs.
Saturday 4:00PM- i want to kill myself. i have no razor blades or massive amounts of sleeping pills. it wouldn't matter anyway seeing as how i don't have the energy to cut through sinewy veins and arteries or swallow anything not of a watery consistency. speaking of swallowing, i have no food. i am eating wheat bread in order to sustain my pathetic self.
Saturday 8:00PM- damn it all to hell!!!! my mother offered to bring chicken soup by at 7, but i was too busy dying to keep up with my emails. now the window of opportunity is closed, and i'm down to about 75 pounds soaking wet. my weasel's still staring at me.
Saturday 10:00PM- i'm drinking Nyquil like it's the almighty serum that will save my soul.
Sunday 7:00AM- how can one head produce so much mucus? i swear it's never ending. i need to do laundry. i need to do dishes. i need to feed Simon. fuck it. i'm going back to sleep.
Sunday 1:00PM- Gold Digger sent me an email asking me if i'm alive. my reply to her is "aaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuughhhhhhhhhhhhhg...."
Sunday 2:00PM- i have gone through three rolls of toilet paper just trying to keep my head from exploding. it's not working.
Sunday 5:00PM- time for more Nyquil. if i live, i plan on writing to the makers of this fine product and telling them they deserve the highest honor this country can bestow.
Sunday 8:00PM- i almost passed out loading the washer. when did clothes become so heavy?
Sunday 10:00PM- there is light at the end of the tunnel. i'm hungry. i'm venturing to Sonics for some grub. let me wax poetic for a minute. there are very few redeeming qualities about West Texas, but one is the feeling right before a big storm. the air smells like rain, and there is a crispness in the air. you can feel what's coming, and it's beautiful. i'm grateful that i can experience it.
Sunday 10:15PM- they are taking too long with my food at Sonic. i am about to pass out. the little icon on my cell phone is eating a burger. he mocks me. i hate him.
Sunday 10:20PM- i've driven home drunk and been a safer driver. at least then you can close one eye and stop seeing double. i can't make out medians or oncoming traffic because i'm so sick. who cares.
Sunday 10:30PM- mmm. i can't really taste my food, but it's good nonetheless. the weasel is still staring.
Monday 1:00AM- aaaah. Nyquil, you are my only friend.
Monday 6:00AM- i feel a thousand times better. just in time for work. story of my life. time to feed the weasel.
***i was not purposely starving my critter. weasels are especially susceptible to human colds and flus. i didn't want to get too close to him so as not to spread my germs. he had a little food to carry him through the weekend. i'm not inhumane!***
so guess how i spent my weekend? sick. again. wtf?!?! when i was attending that germ infested cesspool named Texas Tech, i wasn't this sick, and yet now i can't go two minutes without catching Ebola or some other disgusting illness. so here's a brief run down of my weekend.
Friday 5:00PM- i had been feeling a little scratch in my throat and had been coughing all day, but i don't feel too bad. i actually hope that was the worst of it so i can do everything i have planned for the weekend. i don't have extravagant plans, mind you. just some peeps over to the maxi pad and maybe a little shopping and what not with the sis. i am still a cock-eyed optimist at this point.
Friday 7:00PM- i'm in a fever induced delirium. it's not too bad. it's making me playful and somewhat friendly with my friends which is a novel concept for me. perhaps this cold isn't so bad.
Saturday 5:00AM- oh, the agony. who knew a head could hold so much mucous? who knew the body would cycle through hot and cold flashes with the rapidity of a menopausal bi-polar on meth?
Saturday 10:00AM- my damn peeps kept texting and calling until i turned the phone off. who needs them anyway? they're worthless life suckers who can't take a hint that i'm on my deathbed and don't want to chit chat. my weasel is starving, but i don't have the energy to feed him. he's staring at me from his cage with those beady eyes. i think he can see my germs.
Saturday 4:00PM- i want to kill myself. i have no razor blades or massive amounts of sleeping pills. it wouldn't matter anyway seeing as how i don't have the energy to cut through sinewy veins and arteries or swallow anything not of a watery consistency. speaking of swallowing, i have no food. i am eating wheat bread in order to sustain my pathetic self.
Saturday 8:00PM- damn it all to hell!!!! my mother offered to bring chicken soup by at 7, but i was too busy dying to keep up with my emails. now the window of opportunity is closed, and i'm down to about 75 pounds soaking wet. my weasel's still staring at me.
Saturday 10:00PM- i'm drinking Nyquil like it's the almighty serum that will save my soul.
Sunday 7:00AM- how can one head produce so much mucus? i swear it's never ending. i need to do laundry. i need to do dishes. i need to feed Simon. fuck it. i'm going back to sleep.
Sunday 1:00PM- Gold Digger sent me an email asking me if i'm alive. my reply to her is "aaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuughhhhhhhhhhhhhg...."
Sunday 2:00PM- i have gone through three rolls of toilet paper just trying to keep my head from exploding. it's not working.
Sunday 5:00PM- time for more Nyquil. if i live, i plan on writing to the makers of this fine product and telling them they deserve the highest honor this country can bestow.
Sunday 8:00PM- i almost passed out loading the washer. when did clothes become so heavy?
Sunday 10:00PM- there is light at the end of the tunnel. i'm hungry. i'm venturing to Sonics for some grub. let me wax poetic for a minute. there are very few redeeming qualities about West Texas, but one is the feeling right before a big storm. the air smells like rain, and there is a crispness in the air. you can feel what's coming, and it's beautiful. i'm grateful that i can experience it.
Sunday 10:15PM- they are taking too long with my food at Sonic. i am about to pass out. the little icon on my cell phone is eating a burger. he mocks me. i hate him.
Sunday 10:20PM- i've driven home drunk and been a safer driver. at least then you can close one eye and stop seeing double. i can't make out medians or oncoming traffic because i'm so sick. who cares.
Sunday 10:30PM- mmm. i can't really taste my food, but it's good nonetheless. the weasel is still staring.
Monday 1:00AM- aaaah. Nyquil, you are my only friend.
Monday 6:00AM- i feel a thousand times better. just in time for work. story of my life. time to feed the weasel.
***i was not purposely starving my critter. weasels are especially susceptible to human colds and flus. i didn't want to get too close to him so as not to spread my germs. he had a little food to carry him through the weekend. i'm not inhumane!***
posted by christine on Monday, March 17, 2008
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