|FEEL BAD FOR ME|
** Note the sadface, blanket, and the mug of tea. Oh, and the oxford comma in that last sentence YEAH.
I've just passed the one week point and I'm confused and unhappy about it. I've dealt with the sore throat, body aches, and congestion akin to what would happen if you rubbed a shedding cat on my face. I also lost my voice and sounded like a man-lurking-in-the-bushes for 3 or 4 days. I cannot breathe, I cannot smell, my ears keep popping in and out, and I'm all gross and snivelly.
And here's the worst part: college has no sick days. Assignments don't get postponed because you need extra sleep (like, 8 full hours or something...ultra rare!). All I want is a self-wallowing pity party, but my commitments keep floating around in front of me. I actually have, you know...stuff to do. I'm not getting anything done because I feel like death, and yet I can't take a nap because I'll feel guilty if I'm intentionally not working. This is a vicious circle if I ever saw one.
I've made it through a bottle and a half of DayQuil (which tastes like it was brewed by the devil himself), more than 2 rolls of toilet paper (for my NOSE. Tissues are expensive and toilet paper is free. I'm not cheap, I'm frugal), and a bag of Halls. WTF common cold. Taking medicine is totally not my style.
I'm that kid that everyone made fun of in middle school. The one who's coughing like their extra-curricular is coal mining and making gross snarf-a-larf-a-larf noises as they suffer through class (totally worse in a 200 person lecture). I'm the kid that no one wants to sit next to because let's be real. Ew. I am Hester Prynne, ostracized and condemned by society. It gives me the sadz.
Okay, I'm done playing myself the world's saddest song on the world's smallest violin. This is the part where you pity me back with chocolate, tea, and Puff's lotion infused tissues, kay?