anything

so, after 13 days of working in a row, i go outside to catch a bus once again. only this time, it's been just warm enough to melt the top layer of sleet into an impenetrableblanket of ice. i attempt to use this to my advantage, sliding in small segments, but i end up sliding most of the way on my back. getting up on the street proves to be a futile exercise, as it is just an uneven bumpy ice rink now.

i finally skid my way to the end of the street to the bus stop and stand with about 20 other people who have been waiting about 30 minutes. i wait 45 with them. no buses come during the time 10 should have. during this time i become a direction-giver for those foolhardy enough to be driving, as they are all from out of state.

i give up, skid back home, and climbing up the hill to my house becomes an arctic expedition. i punch a hole with my heel, grab onto it with my hand and pull myself up. the only really bad parts are when the ice is to thick to break and i hit it with full force, and the fact that i can't feel my fingers afterward.

i get home, call in, and suddenly realize i'm sick. very sick.

which i still am.

deliver me from this illness.