I don’t get sick very often (I believe the last time was a mild cold over the holidays when I was home for Christmas), but when I do, oh is it ever an event.
I’m a terrible, terrible patient, which is something I’m sure my mom will confirm after years of the flu and chicken pox and whatever else little kids are always spreading around to each other on blocks and dolls and other things that do not belong in the mouth.
Anyway, I’m difficult. I refuse to take medicine. I just whine and whine until someone offers to do something for me at which point I say, No thanks, and carry on with my whining. I guess I just want people to know I’m miserable. I also cry. I think I just feel bad for myself. Aahaha, it’s pitiful, really.
So now I’m alone and have no one to complain to. Not even Ralph and Weaz would stay up late enough to hear me suffer. I slept a good 12 hours and still feel like hell so I’m dragging myself to class and then going from there for the rest of the day. Maybe the echinacea tea and strawberry cold oats I had this morning will work their magical food superpowers and make me better.
I just hope I didn’t get Ralphie sick. We slept 12 hours and I’ve been up another 45 minutes and someone won’t get out of bed…