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The Sickness Paradox


is me.




Remember when we were kids? When we could just take a whole week off because we had the sniffles? Those were the days.

I can't remember the last time I took a true "sick day". I mean, I've cut plans short and done less than I would've liked, relaxed more when I've been sick, but I can't think of a time since college started when I didn't have to fight through my sickness and bullhead through my responsibilities.

This past weekend, I still did my job as an usher with a throat that felt like a volcano was erupting somewhere in my esauphegus. A job which requires a fair amount of talking and movement. I would've much rather stuck myself in bed that evening and burned through another hundred pages of The Shining but I'm an ADULT with ADULT THINGS to do.

Like pay rent.

So there's that.

Hell, I ended up getting mono my sophomore year of college and I still went to all my classes and attended the rehearsals and performances for three different productions. VALIDATE HOW FUCKING AWESOME AND VIRILE I AM.

and today I sold books and I'm writing a blog post because when I commit to shit, I do it, goddammit.

But enough ego-pumping for the mo'.

I hate being sick. I really do. I cut out anything that isn't a pressing responsibility, letting yet more projects languish, and when I do the things I need to, I feel like gangrene dicks the whole time.

To feel better, I need to rest more. But I can't rest because adult.




There's no point to this post. My head is all a-cloudy. I'm whining about being sick because it's the only thing I can think about right now and I only write these two days in advance so the deep shit I definitely talk about is going to have to wait.

Deal with it.

cough cough cough sniff HAAAACCCK spit wheeze tissue HORNK drip toss bleeeeeeegh cough sniff cry

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