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?
