[Quote from song "Angels on the Moon." Look it up.]
I feel like I have been run over by a large semi, probably carrying Hidden Valley Ranch [because it's my least favorite substance on the planet--so naturally that would be the truck that nails me] and driven by a drunk. I can't stop coughing. It's making me crazy. It's making my family crazy.
And it hurts, damn it. My ribs feel like they're shattering. I can't move too quickly or laugh or sigh or yawn or stretch without feeling like I'm being shanked [yes, shanked].
Why is it always me that gets sick?
On a happier note, I had an amazing day today, other than the whole dying-a-very-slow-death thing. My school does Sonnetgrams for Valentine's Day, and I volunteered this year to be a reader/singer. This would be an excellent time to remind you that I cannot sing at all. So I've never really tried to sing in front of a group of people...much less my peers.
But I did today, and I had a ton of fun. I'm not so bad when I'm with four other people [they counteract my sour notes lol]. I was very proud of myself. Singing for DI is one thing--nobody cares there, we sing all the time and it's never good--but this was different. Even though I was hacking up my left lung, I belted it out, and I felt good.
Oh, and we had donuts in Calc...played literary pictionary in English...did MadLibs in CW...and that was it.
I love the day before holiday breaks. Now I have nine days to relax and get my life back in order.
Hallelujah.
[PS. Happy Friday the 13th, everyone :D ]
15 years ago
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