I am sick. I don’t do sick well. In fact, I am the worst sick person I know. I whine a lot, I writhe around in my covers because I am too hot/too cold/too sick to even continue breathing – it’s all very dramatic.
I have been drinking orange juice, which I detest, but I need all the vitamins I can get. This sucks.
On the plus side, my homoplatonic life partner is back from Mexico, so I was totally happy to see her, even if she is disgustingly tan (which my forehead tan just cannot compete with) and because she is the bringer of the dog, everyone is exponentially happier to see her than they are me. Or maybe being sick is just affecting my self-esteem to a ridiculous level.
I have to go to the newspaper in a few hours. Do they really need me? Methinks they do, especially since the design team has misspelled “thief” on more than one occasion. Bleh.