I'm Sick

And not in the fun, "Oh, you're a pervert" way.

In the when I say "my nose is stuffed up" it sounds like "by dose is sduffet up" kind of way. You know, the way where I can actually see the glands in my neck. The head throbbing kind of sick.

Apparently there is something going around, and if I believed in curses or revenge I'd be placing a nasty one on the descendants of whoever gave me this piece of sick. But I'm way too nice for that.

I hate being sick, because all it amounts to is a refusal by my body to work, to do what I want it to do. Including have sex, dance, speak properly, take walks, or simply carry me without pain up and down the stairs. My brain is still functioning. I still want to be doing stuff. But I can't.

Therefore, I shall be holed up with a movie or Tomb Raider or talking quietly to whoever I can get to keep me company (anyone feel like hangin' out with a sick chick?) for the next few days. This one doesn't feel like a 24 hour bug. (Dammit.)


On living, loving, learning, and fucking with the materials I've got at hand.

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