Flu Diaries
March 11th, 2016
Still no better here aboard the S.S. Kane after days of battling this grave illness. Parents are both in foul moods, sister is hiding at friends' houses, and I now weigh less than I did the day I graduated from high school (no complaints). Possibly have scurvy due to only consuming rice and ginger ale for 3 days. Fever seems to have broken, yet I still feel the chills and sweats. Is it possible to get sunburned by your own body-heat?
I threw up in Wal-mart today. That was delightful. I had to go there to buy bubble mailers because apparently my Etsy store decided to explode overnight, and I am way behind shipping out product and don't wish to be sued. I realized, amidst the turbulence of my innards, that I have become one of "THOSE" people in Wal-mart. The girl in sweat-pants and slippers, carrying a pack of bubble mailers and sitting on the floor rocking back and forth ignoring everyone who walks by. You know.
Still no hope that I'll be mended by tomorrow-- as much as I strongly desire to rejoin my comrades in my various places of employment. I had a great week, nay, a FANTASTIC week, until about midnight on Tuesday night when crrrrrrrrrruuuud went down.
If you're reading this, send help. I need help brushing my hair as it is very tangly and I have no upper arm strength left. Also need someone to make me toast. And reply to all my emails. Though why bother, as this may be one of my last days on earth anyway.
If I don't make it out of all this alive, I leave my Etsy store to Kathryn Williams, the advertisement earnings from this Blahg to Kara Waldbart, all my completed Micro-Economics homework to Nicholas Zeegers, my collection of books to Mary Gwaltney, and my absurd assortment of unused yarns to Matt Ausley. I hereby appoint Kristen Williams as the executor of this will, because I trust her and she is smart. Take whatever you want, Kristen.
GOODBYE CRUEL WORLD.
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