|
|
Monday, August 11th, 2003
|
9:17a - never underestimate the power of a free hat
i am going to work out the rest of today in silent pain and then i am going home to die. you heard me, DIE. what i mean by "die," of course, is take some nyquil, pass out, wake up 10 hours later, pee, take some more nyquill and pass out again. and when i say "silent" pain, what i mean is "would be very vocal about it only i've lost my motherfucking voice" pain. i can't talk without croaking and the office can't understand a single word that i say...and nobody will help me drink my wine. (and i always have some mighty fine wine.) i stopped answering my phone because the first three people who called me broke into uncontrollable laughter. assholes.
so i'm sick, sick sick sick and i blame everybody else. i'm not sure how, but this is YOUR fault, because it certainly isn't mine. i live a pure life of kindness and good deeds and morality and as such should never be subjected to crippling illness. clearly, i got caught in the crossfire of retribution for one of your drunken, ill-advised shenanigans. i can't bloody talk, my head is all hazy, so i can't hear very well, my nose is all stuffy, so i can't smell, and consequently can't taste...i'm down to two senses here, people..and i wear glasses, so really, i'm down to just the one, and let me tell you, touch is totally overrated unless you're high, which i'm not. although that's starting to sound like a good idea. well, except for the fact that i also can't breathe so hot and i imagine anything going into my lungs or up my nose would more than likely just kill me. which also is starting to sound like a good idea.
which brings up another interesting thought--if i were like dying and stuff...would any of you guys pull the plug or feed me lethal dosages of sleeping pills mixed in with ice cream? i mean, on the off chance that my best friend is out of town, 'cuz i know that she'd do it, i mean, she helped me hide the body that one time and all; i'm sure euthanasia isn't out of the question. did i say "body?" i meant "treasure." but seriously, because i am not at all about a languishing in bed with lingering illness and then fighting it and almost getting better, and then falling ill again and saying tearful, yet good-natured and almost inappropriately humorous good-byes to my friends and family and finally dying with a smile on my face, washed in early morning sunlight from the open window.
if you can't tell, i've got a little smidge of a hospital-phobia, mostly because i'm convinced that one of these days, when i get my yearly bout of pneumonia, i'm going to die in one. that would suck.
"i've got a fake laugh with your name written all over it!"
current mood: ill current music: dolly parton
|
|
|
|