I am unhelpfully sick. I've a shiny new fever, punctuated by exciting moments of frost and shivering. I've got a headache. I can't breathe. I'm sure I smell unsavoury, but right now I just smell like six metric tonnes of vanilla[1].
Fortunately, I've got tomorrow off. I can throw up, hallucinate and "Why me" until thrusday afternoon.
Oh, wait, no. I have to play laundrette and buy new work shoes. And food. And clean the house.
Fuck everything.
Fortunately, I've got tomorrow off. I can throw up, hallucinate and "Why me" until thrusday afternoon.
Oh, wait, no. I have to play laundrette and buy new work shoes. And food. And clean the house.
Fuck everything.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
I hope you're feeling a bit better today. Or way better, actually.