So first off, you all suck and it looks like I’m for Lent giving up mayo and porn…which makes me wonder now what exactly constitutes as porn…don’t answer that, I’m going to need a loophole for this one. I’m also going to throw in sweets, for a couple of reasons really. 1. I feel like since I’ve moved up to NYC I don’t eat mayo as much as I used too, and 2. I’ve been a pretty douchy Catholic lady lately, gotta keep the big man happy, yah dig? Yah dig.
Secondly, I’ve been a little M.I.A. from this blog lately because I caught a pretty epic cold/flu/death cough, whatever the fuck you want to call this, and it has left me in pretty delirious state of mind.
Well, in all honesty, it was probably a relatively normal cold but I went out a couple of nights in a row and let me tell you something, whiskey, miller high-life and Nyquil do not create the elixir of health, that they so obviously should.
For some reason this cold has made writing a hellish event for my noggin. As I type this very sentence it feels like I’m looking at the screen cross-eyed...this does not feel good.
And seeing as I’ve obviously already WebMDed my symptoms I had a panic attack, which led to a panic rash, which led to a panic food binge… I’m blaming the food binge on the delirium brought on from this cold…and not the fact that I hadn’t left my apartment for 3 days straight and in all honestly couldn’t think of anything else to do.
I called my mom to get a little motherly TLC but instead I got this:
“Holy shit, you sound terrible.”
“Maybe you have pneumonia.”
Now here’s the thing about my mom. She used to be a nurse AAAANNNND she knows how much of a hypochondriac I am. So why the fuck she would utter the words, “you have pneumonia,” is beyond me. And I ain’t got no health insurance, (thanks assholes who screwed over military kids in this healthcare bullshit), so pneumonia ain’t a word I want to hear uttered from a former fucking nurse.
BUT it was. Which sent me into a whirlwind of emotions such as confusion, and paranoia and lastly an insatiable thirst for twisted Cheeto puffs.
God damn you twisted Cheeto puffs, why do you have to be so god damn awesome?
So as you can clearly see, nothing really changes when I get sick, well nothing aside from the fact that I sound like a dude…and I may have just sneezed into my hair just now…