Even tho it’s common knowledge that being sick at any given time during the course of the year is an inevitably miserable span of days, allow me to get this out there: I’m not fucking with these colds and shit anymore.

There’s something that severely fucks up your head when it’s 50 degrees outside, yet your nose is dripping, you’re wearing a hoodie and a jacket zipped up to your neck, on some Eskimo shit, heat on full blast…and you’re shivering. When your body can’t figure out what exactly it’s supposed to do, shit goes absolutely insane.

Point in case is the fact that, during the past week of hell, I’m ingested half a bottle of Advil, gallons of OJ, enough water to turn around a drought, rarely ate solid food due to golf ball-sized lymph nodes and tonsils – oh, my tonsils – redder than the devil’s dick. Suffice to say, my last week of existence has been relegated to menopausal type hot flashes, sleeping marathons, 2:30 AM infomercial viewings where the hallucinations from the sustained 103 degree fever nearly had me copping costume jewelry and a Shake Weight (no homo).

Who doesn’t like stepping on a scale and seeing that they lost a few pounds over the course of a week? People eat right, go to the gym, drink water, in the hopes that those pounds will just drop off. Workouts not shedding the weight? Viral infections work fucking wonders, b. Get one of these bad boys and losing 8 pounds in 5 days would be the best part of your week! Oh, just sacrifice hours of sleep, the flavor of food, the lustrous and full color of your skin, because this shit has ghosts looking at me like the albino kid in class.

People in the world have it exponentially worse than I do. Some have life threatening diseases, some are confined to hospital beds, being treated for illnesses that are still so difficult to stop that they change the course of life for people. I’m being a sick, moody fucker today, but I’m grateful I don’t have anything that some horse pills won’t eventually cure, but fuck – I’m not about this sick life.