A Hate Note to Germs~

Hey Germs around the world; f*ck off,

No, that doesn’t mean anything other than germs. I mean all the little things that weasel their way into your body and make you feel like sh*t. You’re assh*les!

I think that you’re mean spirited and you make me feel bad. I want you to go away and not come back. You’re like that mean girl in the seventh grade who laughs at my new shoes, even though I think they’re cool. Except, you’re a germ laughing at and crushing my health, even though I think being healthy is cool.


A Seriously Delirious and Drugged Up on Nyquil MazzyMaz.



When You Forget Something Important

I have this problem lately, because I have been very, very sick for a while. It has given me the worst brain fog and for some reason the total inability to remember anything that I need to remember.

Okay, so you’re probably saying, write it down!

Yeah, I do.

But I’ve been so damn out of it that I have written things down on the wrong due dates or at the wrong times and it has supremely messed up my schedule and my capacity to function as a real human.

I haven’t written a quality blog in over a week and I think I’m going to die. I promise that I’m trying to get it together.

Don’t Look At Me Complex

Ever have those days where you just want to yell at the world?

Don’t look at me!

Don’t breathe on me!

Don’t touch me!

Don’t come closer than my six-foot personal space bubble!

Don’t ask me if I’m okay!

It’s a cranky situation.

My “Don’t Look At Me” Complex is running straight to my soul today. I’m chalking it up to the fact that I have either strep throat or tonsillitis and I’m having a challenging enough time trying to keep my own head up, literally, that I really don’t have a single drop of energy more to entertain the masses. So no, I’m not acting like myself and no, I really don’t want to be around you. It’s not your fault though, so don’t take it personally. Give me a hot minute and I’ll get over it, but for right now; don’t look at me.

I Hate Breathing Through My Mouth

Fun fact, here I am, in London, sick, once again.

I know that I have posted about this before, but I just really hate being sick.

I hate breathing through my mouth.

I hate having to pack up all of my stuff at the library, just so I can go to the bathroom to blow my nose.

I hate how it looks like I’m crying because my eyes are watering so much, I swear, I’m not, you can stop asking if I’m okay.

I hate that I’m so tired. Like no. I just slept for 12 straight hours, but I need to have a nap at 2 PM to get through the rest of the day.

I hate that I feel like I’m dying, even though it’s probably only just a cold.

I hate that this sickness has made my level of production decrease by about 85% since last week.

I hate that I’m leaving in 2 days for Spring Break and that my immune system needs to really work itself out or else, I’m going to be real pissed.

I also hate that my being sick has made me bitter and complain-y.

So, I am going to try my damnedest to get back on track for the fanz. No more b*tching and whining, only when it’s truly necessary. I am making the promise to be more optimistic the rest of the week! Hope that you’re still with me!

The 8 Steps of a Hypochondriac

I am one of the worst people at being sick. I don’t think that anyone is good at it, but I am particularly bad. I am a giant baby and a hypochondriac. And it seems that as I get older, it doesn’t get any better.

Each cold/flu comes in steps:

Step 1: Feel that little tingle in the back of my throat when I wake up one morning.

My reaction: “Oh god, oh, oh no. This cannot be happening. I’m not getting a cold. No not at all. I just ate something weird. Oh sh*t is my throat closing? Am I having an allergic reaction? No, no. Calm down, this would have happened much sooner to the time that you actually ate. I am definitely not sick, and if I don’t say it out loud it won’t come true.”

Step 2: Get to mid day, feel completely fine.

My reaction: “See crazy, I told you that you weren’t sick. Look how quickly that passed.”

Step 3: The tingle comes back with a vengeance that night, paired with a stuffy nose.

My reaction: “F*ck. I thought we were beyond this! I can’t be sick. I don’t have time for this! I have the whole world to take on and being sick was not on the agenda. I bet Beyonce never gets sick. This is horse sh*t. I’m never going to fall asleep because I can’t breathe. And if I can’t breathe, I’m probably going to die. I guess I should write a eulogy or something in case I kick the bucket in the middle of the night.”

Step 4: Repeat steps 1-3 for about two days.

Step 5: That point where you have a runny nose constantly, possibly a cough, definitely a sore throat, mild headache, slight fever.

My reaction: “Why is this happening to me? I am a good person. I don’t deserve this hell. I drink lots of orange juice. I mean, maybe I could sleep a bit more, but I’m young, right? Sleep when I’m dead, that’s what they told me. I just didn’t think I’d be dying so soon. If only I knew sooner, I could have had┬ámore tea or had some preventative cold medicine. This would have never gotten to this point.”

Step 6: When you just look like absolute sh*t. You feel like sh*t. Everything is sh*t.

My reaction: Sleep. Sleep all day.

Step 7: That day when you have to get back to work or class and you’re still not feeling totally one hundred percent, but you have no choice.

My reaction: “Buck up bronco. Get you’re sh*t together. You’re sick and it’s time that you stop complaining and try to get better. Let’s go to the store, buy some anti-cold/flu medicine and pave the road to recovery, it probably won’t work, but at least you can say that you tried.”

Step 8: Getting better.

My reactions: “See, I knew I could beat this.”