I am so sick and fucking tired...

...of being sick and fucking tired.

Not only did I miss the ONE freakin' class that I *REALLY* wanted to take, I'm also not traveling this weekend. If you only knew just how pissed off I am at that tiny little factoid, you'd stop reading and go hide. (I have a feeling the language may end up being slightly sarcastic and a tiny bit harsh going forward. Mom, you might want to stop reading now.)

Monday: Woke up with a really, really sore throat, a fever, & body aches. Went to the Dr. I have the flu.

Tuesday: Still had the sore throat, fever, & body aches, I think I gained sinus congestion on this day.

Wednesday: Still had the sore throat, fever, body aches, & congestion. My ears started hurting on this day. Called the Doctor. I still had the flu.

Thursday: Still had the sore throat, fever, body aches, congestion, and ear aches. This was the day the headache came in and took over along with a cough that came out of nowhere. Oh, and my ears started leaking something. Hmm.

Friday: Still had the sore throat, fever, body aches, congestion, ear aches, ear leaking, headache, & cough. I had to sleep (using the word "sleep" *very* loosely...) on my left side Thursday night or my left ear would fill with something (I later identified as pus) and hurt like a mother fucker. Called the Doctor. That's not good. Can you come in at 9:50am?

What do you mean "That's not good?" I don't want to hear that. I've been laying down with tears falling from my eyes, too tired and in too much pain to actually cry for the last 3 days and you say that's not good *now*? I don't want to fucking hear that at all thank-you-very-much.

At this point, there are very few orifices left on my body that aren't producing something you really don't need a vivid description of. Suffice it to say it's all judged by color. Certain colors are good, or normal, and other colors are bad. (I learn this from my EMT friend later, which explains the doctor's reaction...) Apparently I had really bad colors.

"You need antibiotics."

No shit, Sherlock. I hit that conclusion on Wednesday. Where the fuck were you?

Off to the hospital for tests and the drugstore for drugs.

I'll cut in here and say that having me drive from my house to the Doctor's office...not a good idea. Seriously, I shouldn't be allowed *near* any kind of moving machinery, never mind one that can cause mass amounts of desctruction. But, living alone I have very little choice in the matter. Still, not a good idea at all.

I get to the hospital and a worker takes pity on my dazed expression trying to decipher where it I need to go while looking at the 'You are here' map. She tells me exactly where to go and what I need to do. This is exactly what I need - someone to do my thinking for me! Clearly, not my strong point right now. I can't hear a goddamn thing and mucous is flying out of my head faster than I can blink. I shouldn't be trying to figure things out. This is the ideal time for someone to take charge and just tell me what to do.

Normally that doesn't work out so well for me. Today, well, it would've been (and was) a blessing.

I get some blood work done and a couple of chest xrays. I find out where making sure I don't have pneumonia. Well that's good. I'd like to not have pneumonia as well. Or if I do, I'd like to know about it. Pneumonia sucks, big time.

So, that's where I am now. Pretty much where I was on Monday but 5 times as worse. I didn't make it to the class I wanted to and I am not making it to my frisbee competition in PA this weekend. I'm pissed off at the world for both of those things, much more so for not being able to make the competition. Tweak hates the world too, she just doesn't know how to show it. :p

---

I have been well aware of the word "irony" from a very, very young age. It was a life lesson learned quite early; probably unfortunate but true nonetheless.

A good example - After surviving on 3 shortbread cookies and 2 cups of tea per day for the past week, I figured I should try to make something with a little more substance to it. A bagel is safe. Add some peanut butter for protein, not so bad.

If you know me, you know I can put on quite the little feast for a group of people. You're coming over in an hour to swim and you're bringing 15 of your closest friends? Sure, I've got stuff in the freezer. Fire up the grill and we'll have a 4-course meal with good beer and dessert in an hour. No problem.

A bagel, however, when I'm sick? Pathetic. I stuck it in the toaster oven for the alloted time, like I do every time, and it was burnt to crisps. I throw peanut butter on it non-burnt parts, thinking I'll be able to scrape off the burnt parts. Wrong.

I ended up just scraping the peanut butter off with my teeth like a child who eats the center out of the Oreo cookie.

I sure hope I don't have to point out the irony of that situation out to you.

Millie ain't the charred remains. She's good like that. Oh wait, I guess this situation would be applicable for "I've got that going for me...... which is nice."

My old friend that I was going to hug him and kiss him and pet him and call him George is now Just George. Irony needs a fucking bitch slap sometimes.

I think that's enough for today. It's taken me just about 3 hours to write all of this.

I'll try to get some of the details from my dreams earlier down on paper and in story form. They were.... odd, to say the least but could be really cool stories! First I have to figure out what they meant.

D