What I did(n't) do today:
It's been 2 weeks today that I've been sick! And I am still alive, surprisingly. I probably could have been better long before now, but my strong distrust of doctors and medicine probably hindered my healing. I can't help but think that all that shit the doctors are making me take aren't actually going to help me get better, but are really just going to trick my body into thinking it already is better, and that does not make me feel better. I like to think that my body is awesome enough to fight the flu without any $80 pills. Which I took anyway, cause I had already paid for them. The funny thing about being sick is that you get more sick when you think about how sick you really are. Since maybe last friday I've been waking up with these ass kicking migraines that were sooooo bad they made me cry and super nauseus. Is that how it's spelled? Nauseus? Anyway, super nauseus. The doctor gave me some blue Aleve-like pills (which I found out about through Google) and told me to take 2 a day for the next 2 weeks. I took them for about a week, but they didn't do shit to help my head. They'd work for a little while, but when the time came for the next pill, my head was breaking open and my brain was all popping out (no not really) that the little pill couldn't do anything to save me. Plus, they took like 3 hours to kick in so I hated them anyway. So on friday, instead of taking the next little blue monster, I went out and drank myself silly, risking the same mindblowing-in-a-bad-way migraines and possible stomach bleeding (according to Google, anyway). Then, I stayed up all night and well into the morning eating cheap mexican food from down the street, watching CNN about the floods in North Dakota, and making out with this guy who likes to toy with my emotions and once made me cry (we once had a conversation about how he absolutely will not date me, but that's a story for another time), but he is a pretty good kisser and kind of cute so I put up with it. I woke up the next morning with no migraines. Fuck you, doctors. Fuck you and your little blue pills.
I never quite realized how bad I am at cooking. I always knew I didn't know how, but I always thought it was easy to do the basic stuff like frying eggs and making pancakes. You just put the shit on the thing till it cooks, right? Wrong. Apparantly I'm really good at burning the shit out of everything, while the other side stays gooey and undercooked. Ooops. But that doesn't stop me from eating whatever I make, cause hey, I paid for that shit.
There's a room in my house that's an add-on room, so it's super ghetto and has no windows. We call it The Dungeon, and I've been in here since I woke up this morning (without any migraines). I'm supposed to be buliding a 1/8 scale model of this historical archive center we're designing, but instead I felt the need to type something out, because I haven't written a damn thing for school and I kind of miss it. Moreover I miss how fast and accurately I can type without looking at the keys. It makes me feel powerful, or something. Apparantly the sun has already set, but I didn't notice. Time stands still in this dungeon. I'm waiting anxiously for this dude (mentioned above) to text me back so we can talk about our St. Patrick's day redo, where we will drink ourselves silly with a variety of green-colored beverages and probably do something stupid. Apparantly, the only way this man can tell when I'm drunk is when I have lapses of judgement. No slurring speech, no heavy eyelids, no falling over or knocking into things. Nope, just making bad decisions like making out with strangers. Which, by the way, is how I met this guy in the first place.
Let me tell you about this guy, but kind of vaguely so maybe you won't figure out who I'm talking about. Like I said, we met at a party at which I was completely schwasted from that drinking game where you bang on the table and mimic animals with your hands. I think it's called Thumper? Regardless, I was super drunk and took this guy, barefoot through a parking lot that was probably full of rusty nails and broken glass, to the backseat of my car cause I didn't want to sully my friend's apartment like that. But ANYWAY, over the next week or so this guy is super nice to me, like picking me up from the College of Design (the OTHER dungeon) at 3AM when it was cold and my knees hurt, and taking walks up a mountain when I was tired of working on my project (also probably around 3AM), and picking me up at my friend's party when I was too drunk to drive, then buying me cheap mexican food and giving me tea. Yes smart one, I am talking about the same thing as earlier. This was also at 3AM. To 7AM, when he went home. oh snap. But in between all the niceness, he once told me he was wasting his time with me, or at least that's what I deduced from his long speech about how he will not date me. That's when I cried a little bit (but don't get me wrong, I wasn't crying over HIM as much as I was crying for myself for being a little bitch, all upset like that). But, we talked it out the next day and now I kind of hate him as a person. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha just kidding. He is not a nice person at all!
I've stopped working out since maybe January, when I started having knee problems, and since then I've lost like 5 pounds, which doesn't seem like much, but I'm itty bitty and went from 123 pounds to 118, which is a whole lot for my size. I feel so cheated by life. However, from being sick I've been coughing nonstop for like a week and a half, which is probably the most intense ab workout I've ever had. I hope to gain some sixpack abs from this. Hahaha, not really.
I really hope someone took the time to read all of this, because nothing makes me happier than people listening to me talk about myself.
I never quite realized how bad I am at cooking. I always knew I didn't know how, but I always thought it was easy to do the basic stuff like frying eggs and making pancakes. You just put the shit on the thing till it cooks, right? Wrong. Apparantly I'm really good at burning the shit out of everything, while the other side stays gooey and undercooked. Ooops. But that doesn't stop me from eating whatever I make, cause hey, I paid for that shit.
There's a room in my house that's an add-on room, so it's super ghetto and has no windows. We call it The Dungeon, and I've been in here since I woke up this morning (without any migraines). I'm supposed to be buliding a 1/8 scale model of this historical archive center we're designing, but instead I felt the need to type something out, because I haven't written a damn thing for school and I kind of miss it. Moreover I miss how fast and accurately I can type without looking at the keys. It makes me feel powerful, or something. Apparantly the sun has already set, but I didn't notice. Time stands still in this dungeon. I'm waiting anxiously for this dude (mentioned above) to text me back so we can talk about our St. Patrick's day redo, where we will drink ourselves silly with a variety of green-colored beverages and probably do something stupid. Apparantly, the only way this man can tell when I'm drunk is when I have lapses of judgement. No slurring speech, no heavy eyelids, no falling over or knocking into things. Nope, just making bad decisions like making out with strangers. Which, by the way, is how I met this guy in the first place.
Let me tell you about this guy, but kind of vaguely so maybe you won't figure out who I'm talking about. Like I said, we met at a party at which I was completely schwasted from that drinking game where you bang on the table and mimic animals with your hands. I think it's called Thumper? Regardless, I was super drunk and took this guy, barefoot through a parking lot that was probably full of rusty nails and broken glass, to the backseat of my car cause I didn't want to sully my friend's apartment like that. But ANYWAY, over the next week or so this guy is super nice to me, like picking me up from the College of Design (the OTHER dungeon) at 3AM when it was cold and my knees hurt, and taking walks up a mountain when I was tired of working on my project (also probably around 3AM), and picking me up at my friend's party when I was too drunk to drive, then buying me cheap mexican food and giving me tea. Yes smart one, I am talking about the same thing as earlier. This was also at 3AM. To 7AM, when he went home. oh snap. But in between all the niceness, he once told me he was wasting his time with me, or at least that's what I deduced from his long speech about how he will not date me. That's when I cried a little bit (but don't get me wrong, I wasn't crying over HIM as much as I was crying for myself for being a little bitch, all upset like that). But, we talked it out the next day and now I kind of hate him as a person. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha just kidding. He is not a nice person at all!
I've stopped working out since maybe January, when I started having knee problems, and since then I've lost like 5 pounds, which doesn't seem like much, but I'm itty bitty and went from 123 pounds to 118, which is a whole lot for my size. I feel so cheated by life. However, from being sick I've been coughing nonstop for like a week and a half, which is probably the most intense ab workout I've ever had. I hope to gain some sixpack abs from this. Hahaha, not really.
I really hope someone took the time to read all of this, because nothing makes me happier than people listening to me talk about myself.