Dearest Readers,
I'm a bit under the weather. I always imagined myself to be a brave, stalwart stick person, suffering mostly in silence and with good humor. I imagined I wasn't the type to make others suffer just because I'm suffering.
False. Times ten.
I'm an overly dramatic and loathsome sick person. I whine and fake cry and point and grunt when I want something. Sure, I am sick, but it's only a trifling, run-of-the-mill cold: stuffy nose, watery eyes, weak cough, one sore hip joint. Yet, I can't tell you how many times today I've thought to myself, "I want to die!" Oh, mercy me, the drama! (Reminder: It's just a cold.) The thing is, I have been much sicker than this. I've had pneumonia, and the worse case of strep throat one doctor has ever seen (it was also resistant to the first antibiotic have gave me), and recurring bronchitis while I was in high school. Yet now, with this wee cold, I want to die. Die!
Och, it's painful to look in that mirror of truth only find out you're your own obnoxious nightmare. And this is just about having a cold. I think I'll put the truth mirror away for a little while until I feel better. A year or two ought to do it.
Uuunng! (Points to "Publish" button.)
Sincerely,
Please let me come and take care of you. And get a little bell to ring when you need me so that you won't hurt your throat. I'm a giver.
ReplyDeleteOkay. But that would mean a rigorous schedule of watching Miyazaki movies eating junk food. I don't know if I can put you through that.
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