The cold I have been flirting with all week grew into a serious relationship last night and it now appears that I am married to this fucker. So I am settled in with 2 boxes of tissue (I went through an entire box last night alone), oj, and whiskey. I see a nasty and prolonged divorce in my future.

I’m not saying shoot me, but I doubt I would have the energy to slap the gun away.

So I am behaving like a dying dog who runs off into the woods and away from its society. Classmates have offered  emergency drops of food and movies, but I prefer the solitary existence in my house of misery and disease.

Don’t look at me. Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me. Leavemealone…

…gonna curl up into a little ball and think of more pleasant things…like bathing in a bowl of chicken noodle soup…

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