My Music is Irrelevant
I hate being sick.
If I go home, I fall behind in a thousand things. If I stay at ShinRa to work, I screw up a thousand things and have to redo them. I hate meds. I hate how they taste, I hate how they make me feel, I hate taking them. I hate how I feel if I don't take them. There is nothing good about being sick.
It got bad enough that Rose threatened to quit if I didn't take time off. I really doubt she would ever actually quit, so I guess it's a measure of how "out of it" I was: either I was gullible enough to believe her, or she was annoyed enough to mean it at the time.
I went home, broke out the tea and the soup and the orange juice and the bathrobe and all that crap, and sat there, staring at the wall, very rapidly going insane. I cannot sit around and do nothing for hours at a time. So what do I do? I pull up the Worldwide Network and start looking up world fucking history. That's how sick I was. I was world history sick.
Don't ask why I suddenly wanted to know if there ever really were kings and queens and palaces and all that crap, but I did. Apparently there were, though. And it's true that only royalty was allowed to own greyhounds, at least in some places. Huh.
ANYWAY I'm back now. And I want to know why the HELL there is a picture of a hippo on my computer desktop.
And who the hell told Jeremy that I started taking my coffee black? Honestly, I leave for one day and people start screwing around with my stuff.
If I go home, I fall behind in a thousand things. If I stay at ShinRa to work, I screw up a thousand things and have to redo them. I hate meds. I hate how they taste, I hate how they make me feel, I hate taking them. I hate how I feel if I don't take them. There is nothing good about being sick.
It got bad enough that Rose threatened to quit if I didn't take time off. I really doubt she would ever actually quit, so I guess it's a measure of how "out of it" I was: either I was gullible enough to believe her, or she was annoyed enough to mean it at the time.
I went home, broke out the tea and the soup and the orange juice and the bathrobe and all that crap, and sat there, staring at the wall, very rapidly going insane. I cannot sit around and do nothing for hours at a time. So what do I do? I pull up the Worldwide Network and start looking up world fucking history. That's how sick I was. I was world history sick.
Don't ask why I suddenly wanted to know if there ever really were kings and queens and palaces and all that crap, but I did. Apparently there were, though. And it's true that only royalty was allowed to own greyhounds, at least in some places. Huh.
ANYWAY I'm back now. And I want to know why the HELL there is a picture of a hippo on my computer desktop.
And who the hell told Jeremy that I started taking my coffee black? Honestly, I leave for one day and people start screwing around with my stuff.