..if it were any colder, I could disengage; if I were any older I would act my age..
I hate LIFE, and all it's stupid ways of fucking me over!! Am I not allowed even the tiniist, most miniscule bit of happiness? Am I not allowed to spend a few days out of each terrible week laughing with my friends in blissful oblivion of the horrendous mess that is my life!? NOT EVEN TWO DAYS!?!?
Guess what? I'm sick as fuck again. And guess what else? It's fucked over my plans, again. Sickness - 2; Allie - 0.
If you don't care to hear my plea for pity/relentless rambling, don't read this cut.
I went to school feeling awful, telling myself I'd just suffer through the day and then be free to chill with my homies.. that was sure to make things better. But no. Shortly after 1st block began it became apparent that someone had other intentions. Sick, cruel intentions. I sat in agony through the rest of 1st block, wanting so badly to go to the clinic. But I didn't know where it was and Mrs. Reed is a meanie so being the pansy I am I waited until I got to Mrs. Kiefer's class. Then, I got to spend like 28 years looking for the clinic because our school's layout smokes way more crack than I could ever afford. Thankfully the highschool nurse isn't as much of a pain in the ass as I remember the middle school nurses being, and she let me call home right away. I would have been so pissed off if she was like.."well why don't you just lay down for a bit and see if you feel better" or "go to lunch see if you don't feel better after you've eaten something".. that's what they would always tell me in middle school. Whores. Anywho, so I called my mom and almost burst into tears while I was asking her to come get me. I felt like crying all day, which would have only made me feel worse in the long run. *sigh*. It's difficult being this emotional, lemme tell ya.
It was my lunch time by the time I got off the phone so I set off to face the tortureous wrath of Christina and naturally, be sucked into the depths of my mental issues. After she abandoned me to go study I headed up to the library to hang out on the computer, but there were too many people there so I left. I was completely out of options. I headed back downstairs and walked to my class to see if anyone was in there. Freaked out by the fact that there were actually people there, I headed back to the cafeteria, lmao. Sooo weird. I was going to go outside and swipe me a nice pic-i-nic table to be miserable with, but this stupid ASSHOLE yelled at me and was all like "you have to stay in the cafeteria with that drink!! dur dur dur!!".. what was this horrid drink that would undoubtedly unleash it dreadful wrath upon the outdoor world!? WATER!! HOLY CHRIST, ANYTHING BUT WATER!! Outside?!?! The destruction such a creation is capable of when placed in the wrong hands!!
So I just stand in the corner wanting to cry again, sipping my demonic water for the rest of lunch. I was surprised to be greeted by a stranger I had once been friends with, and this was probably the highlight of my day. It's always nice to have my theories of intentional avoidance and underlying hate disproved. Finally the bell rang and I went to my class to anxiously await the arrival of my dearest mother. Finally the phone spoke up, sending word of my savior's presence on campus and I walked once again (in much less of a circle) to the clinic.
More misery on the ride home, consisting mostly of forced engagement in conversation as my head was pounding and the voices were drowning out the Dresden Dolls. =(
When I got home I called Laura & left a message telling her I came home and to NOT try to come pick me up from school at the end of the day as planned. Of course, she didn't recieve this message until it was too late. Meef. I passed out for several hours.. a few of which Hobbes spent gracing me with his fluffy presence. I feel asleep with him laying next to me, my arm wrapped around him and woke up a couple hours later to discover neither of us had moved. Aww.. this is why I love kitties. They know when you really need them.
However, when I woke up I threw up the nyquil, and thankfully nothing else since I hadn't eaten all day. Throwing up chunks of things you ate recently is sooo sick. I still feel like absolute shit. The same absolute shit I felt like a couple days after seeing Conor, when this sickness bullshit all began. I never fully recovered from that cold and here I am with yet another. I guess it's like a relapse, or something, since my immune system is apparently too fucking weak and inefficient to do ANYTHING useful here. That really pisses me off, cos my immune system never sucked so much ass until now. Gosh. Is this like some sort of punishment for finally getting something I really wanted? Maybe a curse was cast upon me the night I saw Conor, specifying that for every second of pleasure I got out of that show I must suffer for a year. Meaning, I will only be suffering for the rest of my life. Seriously though. This was supposed to be a good year. How is being sick for a month any good? How is getting fucked out of all of my fun plans any good? WHAT EVIL FORCE IS WORKING SO DEVOTEDLY AGAINST ME!?!? If there is a god, he deserves to be fucked in the ass with a large spiked pole until he can relate to the torture he puts all of his little puppets through.
I think I'm satisfied with the amount of ranting and dramatization I've accomplished here now. Have a nice day, you healthy bastards.
Guess what? I'm sick as fuck again. And guess what else? It's fucked over my plans, again. Sickness - 2; Allie - 0.
If you don't care to hear my plea for pity/relentless rambling, don't read this cut.
I went to school feeling awful, telling myself I'd just suffer through the day and then be free to chill with my homies.. that was sure to make things better. But no. Shortly after 1st block began it became apparent that someone had other intentions. Sick, cruel intentions. I sat in agony through the rest of 1st block, wanting so badly to go to the clinic. But I didn't know where it was and Mrs. Reed is a meanie so being the pansy I am I waited until I got to Mrs. Kiefer's class. Then, I got to spend like 28 years looking for the clinic because our school's layout smokes way more crack than I could ever afford. Thankfully the highschool nurse isn't as much of a pain in the ass as I remember the middle school nurses being, and she let me call home right away. I would have been so pissed off if she was like.."well why don't you just lay down for a bit and see if you feel better" or "go to lunch see if you don't feel better after you've eaten something".. that's what they would always tell me in middle school. Whores. Anywho, so I called my mom and almost burst into tears while I was asking her to come get me. I felt like crying all day, which would have only made me feel worse in the long run. *sigh*. It's difficult being this emotional, lemme tell ya.
It was my lunch time by the time I got off the phone so I set off to face the tortureous wrath of Christina and naturally, be sucked into the depths of my mental issues. After she abandoned me to go study I headed up to the library to hang out on the computer, but there were too many people there so I left. I was completely out of options. I headed back downstairs and walked to my class to see if anyone was in there. Freaked out by the fact that there were actually people there, I headed back to the cafeteria, lmao. Sooo weird. I was going to go outside and swipe me a nice pic-i-nic table to be miserable with, but this stupid ASSHOLE yelled at me and was all like "you have to stay in the cafeteria with that drink!! dur dur dur!!".. what was this horrid drink that would undoubtedly unleash it dreadful wrath upon the outdoor world!? WATER!! HOLY CHRIST, ANYTHING BUT WATER!! Outside?!?! The destruction such a creation is capable of when placed in the wrong hands!!
So I just stand in the corner wanting to cry again, sipping my demonic water for the rest of lunch. I was surprised to be greeted by a stranger I had once been friends with, and this was probably the highlight of my day. It's always nice to have my theories of intentional avoidance and underlying hate disproved. Finally the bell rang and I went to my class to anxiously await the arrival of my dearest mother. Finally the phone spoke up, sending word of my savior's presence on campus and I walked once again (in much less of a circle) to the clinic.
More misery on the ride home, consisting mostly of forced engagement in conversation as my head was pounding and the voices were drowning out the Dresden Dolls. =(
When I got home I called Laura & left a message telling her I came home and to NOT try to come pick me up from school at the end of the day as planned. Of course, she didn't recieve this message until it was too late. Meef. I passed out for several hours.. a few of which Hobbes spent gracing me with his fluffy presence. I feel asleep with him laying next to me, my arm wrapped around him and woke up a couple hours later to discover neither of us had moved. Aww.. this is why I love kitties. They know when you really need them.
However, when I woke up I threw up the nyquil, and thankfully nothing else since I hadn't eaten all day. Throwing up chunks of things you ate recently is sooo sick. I still feel like absolute shit. The same absolute shit I felt like a couple days after seeing Conor, when this sickness bullshit all began. I never fully recovered from that cold and here I am with yet another. I guess it's like a relapse, or something, since my immune system is apparently too fucking weak and inefficient to do ANYTHING useful here. That really pisses me off, cos my immune system never sucked so much ass until now. Gosh. Is this like some sort of punishment for finally getting something I really wanted? Maybe a curse was cast upon me the night I saw Conor, specifying that for every second of pleasure I got out of that show I must suffer for a year. Meaning, I will only be suffering for the rest of my life. Seriously though. This was supposed to be a good year. How is being sick for a month any good? How is getting fucked out of all of my fun plans any good? WHAT EVIL FORCE IS WORKING SO DEVOTEDLY AGAINST ME!?!? If there is a god, he deserves to be fucked in the ass with a large spiked pole until he can relate to the torture he puts all of his little puppets through.
I think I'm satisfied with the amount of ranting and dramatization I've accomplished here now. Have a nice day, you healthy bastards.