Sickness sucks. No, it blows. No wait: IT SUCKS AND BLOWS!
I've got some funky combination of a Gastro viral thing coupled with irritable insides that I've suffered with for years now. My dad had it too.
I'm turning into my father.
Next I'll be wandering around the house in my knickers and talking to my cats all day. No wait: I'm already doing that. Never mind...
OK, so being sick makes me funny. I'm so out of it I'd probably let those annoying religious people trying to sell me my salvation in just for the company. Why you ask? Because being sick is a lonely thing. And it's my own doing. I won't let people around me when I'm sick. I'm like a dog that wanders off into the woods to suffer alone. I am an island. I'm tough and don't need anyone. I like to suffer in peace.
Total crap, right?
Maybe, but it's actually what I do. I suffer alone. I'm very solitary about these things. Maybe I'll change that one day. Maybe. And it's funny because I love taking care of the people I care about. I think nothing of it and have done so again and again. I'm nurturing by nature. Ask any man I've been involved with. He'll tell you.
I tried to ask for help this time. I asked my neighbor, the idiot good for nothing twit that he is, if he could pick me up some Tylenol on his way home from work (He regularly calls and asks if I'll make him some of my yummy tea when he's had a bad day). I was in pain and I needed some. He totally flaked on me so I had to drag my sorry butt out and make the drive to the drugstore all crumpled and bent over like a 90 year old woman so I could get my meds. I'm telling you, it really is easier to rely on myself. Yep. He is now on the LIST. No tea for him!
I AM AN ISLAND.
And now I'll go back to wandering around the house in my knickers and talking to my cats.