Tagged: sick

Don’t Stand So Close to Me

On Tuesday morning, I started to think that I might be coming down with something. By 2:30pm, I had to leave work because it felt like every bone in my body was made out of those weird Twizzlers with the gooey insides.

Every bone. Even the little ones in my ears.

Every bone. Even the little ones in my ears.

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She Was a Day(Quil) Tripper

I’m sick again because my immune system checked my calendar and noticed this would be a really bad week for me to be less than functional. My white blood cells schedule all their fights for the days I have a lot to do. It’s a fun game we like to play.

I’m not good at getting sick. In an ideal world, I would get unearthly pale and sit in my bed embroidering something while people fretted around me. I’d bravely said things like, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll pull through.” with a weak, tragic smile. If it was bad enough, I’d die with a tiny sigh and a promising poetry career cut tragically short. Also, for some reason I’d be blonde.

And I would have a lightsaber!

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