Hi guys, so this week has been miserable. I woke up on Sunday with a tickle in my throat and being the weirdo that I am…rather than assuming I was about to get sick…I assumed my throat was sore from screaming too much. It was a weird assumption considering I hadn’t been at a rock concert Saturday night or anything and was actually in bed watching Pretty Little Liars by…I don’t know 9:30? So I was in for a cruel awakening when, come Monday morning my throat hadn’t healed from all this screaming I was supposedly doing and suddenly my nose had become a waterfall of mucus. Ew. I keep popping dayquil and spending as much time as possible curled up in my duvet but despite my best efforts every morning has been worse than the last.
Don’t you hate that part of being sick? You work so hard to power through each day with the hope that a good night’s sleep will result in an upward turn the next morning…only to discover your eyes are more crusty, your body a bit achier and your nose is as raw as…I don’t know, insert some sort of weird meat analogy here (I’m a vegetarian so I don’t have one that makes sense). And then there is actually getting out of bed…I’m pretty sure Karma is paying me back for all of the times I “played” sick in junior high and high school just so I could stay home and lay around all day (pretty sure I did this to skip cheer practice when I didn’t have a dance memorized too). Well guess what, the universe is getting back at me because now I’m as sick as a dog (weirdest saying ever) and there’s no skipping school and definitely no skipping work. Um…being a grown up sort of sucks.
The only thing inspiring me to get out of bed each morning is
my desire to learn everything my wonderful professors have to teach me the surprise the Jefferson ordered me this weekend from the Tory Burch friends and family sale (can you say “best boyfriend ever”). It technically isn’t a surprise because he told me to try and cheer me up but let’s just say this little (GIGANTIC LIFE-CHANGING) surprise rhymes with “Siding Suits” (hint: RIDING BOOTS). So I’m frantically pestering the workers who handle the mail in my apartment because I’ve pretty much decided every single outfit in my wardrobe would look better with the little gems my sweet boyfriend gifted me.
So that’s all that’s pulling me out of bed and writing my essays for me…boots, and green tea and coffee. Oh and kleenex. If you were with me you’d be absolutely disgusted by the piles of used kleenex surrounding me at all times, you’d also probably throw up a little because I might ask you to help me blow my nose while my nails are drying (or maybe I just saved that special treatment for Jeff).