I don’t feel good. These kids are being extra loud, my neck hurts, there is some thick phlegm shit stuck in the back my throat, and I just want to go home and crawl in bed. I can’t. It sucks. I’m trying to drug myself up, but I’m scared to take anything that may make me too drowsy and fall asleep on the bus, and wake up anywhere besides home. I wish I had a car. Scratch that. Today would be a horrible day for me to try and drive. I can barely make it up these mazes of steps and door ways here at work; traffic is much more difficult.
This is just not a good day. I hate being sick. I that the thought of being sick. I’m such a big baby. I just want my mommy to make me some soup and bring me orange juice with a flexi-straw.
Why won’t these kids shut the hell up!!! Why??? I hope this sickness doesn’t come with a sore throat. I hope it’s gone by Monday. I can’t let this sickness rob me of my big “Fuck you, I’m quitting speech.” I’ve planned it since day three, every since I found out Teaching Assistant meant I would be trapped in this hell because of the damn recession and my lack of a degree.
Who turned the lights up so high? Yesterday you couldn’t pay for an ounce of sunshine; today every single beam seems to be aimed directly in my eyes penetrating the part of my brain that cause a cacophony of ringing noises, that I can only call chaos.
Why me?
Where is my mother, a bowl of chicken noodle soup and darkness and silence? That would make my day so much better. I knew it was going to be horrible when I over slept by a half an hour. I should have stayed in bed. I’m always ignoring the important signals.
There are a 1000 people texting me and are angry that my responses are short un-humorous. I can’t help it. I just don’t feel like me. Lie. I do feel like me, just a me who got ran over by a tractor trailed and infected with the bird flu, but I haven’t eaten chicken in days, and that has no real relevance to what I’m talking about now. Someone save me from me. Save me from whatever sick is resting in the pit of my belly. Tell me that this is not some anxiety ridden disease that has chosen to manifest itself in the form of insomnia and cold symptoms.
I promise, I’ll be better and less anxious and lethargic come the New Years, I have it all mapped out, including my red white and blue skinny tie.
I know I’m rambling, but I can’t sleep like I want to
So, I’ll type until the pain stops, or the medicine kicks in, or its time for me to go home.
Some people look hotter when they suffer,
KD
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