lundi 13 août 2007


My body is this elastic band which can only be stretched so far. I boasted about my immune system, about how invincible I am when the rest of my friends were down with a cold. But all the while as I taunted them and said that they had avian influenza or SARS (I even went as far as AIDS) my own little elastic band of antibodies were being stretched and now finally it has snapped.

And you can be sure that I am ill because I have started these long-winded analogies which don't really strengthen a point.

It is late and I know I should sleep. But when I'm a bit fever-ish, I can never fall asleep. If I close my eyes my naughty vivid imagination will create images of my bronchial getting clogged with flem and when I cough I see little bits of flem and bronchial get torn off and coughed up and there is little specks of blood which splatter onto my tonsils and then if I cough again I get this panoramic view of my two lungs which are inflamed and red and palpitating. And then I quite literally see myself coughing up my lung. At which point I conclude that I'm going crazy and sit up in bed angrily until my shoulder's feel cold. I don't need to go through this to know that it will happen if I go to bed. So I'm staying up instead. What a stupid decision.

Oh how I whinge and whine! If I was a starving child in Africa I'd probably whine myself to death before the hunger pains kick in.

I look a bit crazy right now. I am stressing out at how much work I haven't done and feeling the effects of high dosages of menthol (my cough lozenges wrapper tells me I have long surpassed the recommended number of lozenges to be taken per day). Falling behind and getting sick is like getting pregnant and not gaining weight; it's handy but at the same time you wonder if it's a bad thing on the long run. Oh no, another bad analogy. I am so full of them.

I think if I saw myself as I am right now on the streets, I would either walk to the other side of the street or avoid eye contact.

If Ms. Wilson thinks that I'm turning up for Chem tomorrow, she has some more thinking to do. Would I ever let a valid excuse for wagging go so freely?

4 commentaires:

Anonyme a dit…

Hmmm...I rarely feel the cold, and I don't eat much...

I've never been REALLY sick, and have only taken two sick days in the last three years...I guess I'm just lucky in that respect.

But I always feel that because I've not had chickenpocks yet, at some point I'm going to have it, and it's going to be serious.

I don't quite have the problem when I'm sick imagining myself coughing up my own lungs, but that's probably because I'm nearly always sick, to a minimal extent. I've got a constant runny/blocked nose, a sneeze or two, far too much phlegm for a human body, and occasionally a nasty cough (often linked with asthma).

Amusing, and to be honest, rather cute, photo of yourself =D
See, now I have photographic evidence in my dirty paws...hello blackmail!
Your hair works well's all pushing over to one side, the side in which your eye is a little...wonky. Hence one side of your face looks fine, the other looks...manky.
Actually...not manky...but I can't think of the word for it.

*thinks your analogy is bad indeed. Or at least, there's better ones to be found around the innards of your mind.*

Anonymous I.

Anonyme a dit…

haha you look adorable ^^. I found that if you cover one side of your face, you look like a very young shocked little boy, and if you cover the other side you look like a pregnant sick and dieing old granny. (and I mean that in the nicest way).

interesting vivid image of your lungs expelling themselves from your body.

Enjoy your days off from you sickness. Anonymous II

i am sunni a dit…

you know, the funniest part is, eric is right. i just went and covered the left side of my face and then the right and i did indeed look like a little boy and then an old woman.


oh and hi oliver. it would be so amusing (for the rest of us) when you get chicken pox. that is, unless you actually died or something. that would be a sorry event.

Anonyme a dit…

Wouldn't be very sorry for me. I wouldn't be around to be sorry.