I get sick a lot. Like, a lot a lot. I've had mono twice. You'd think that would mean some severe negative ramifications for my pristine reputation, but fear not faithful readers, my repu-chastity is intact and I have since learned not to share drinks with anyone, ever.
What this really means, however, is that every two-or-so weeks, I get some kind of mild cold (or sinus infection, or intense case of allergies, or it's a day that ends in "y" and I have to self-medicate with lots of tea and Gilmore Girls) and everyone within two blocks will hear about it. Forever.
I like to think that I'm a relatively modern woman - self-sufficient, going places, respected by my peers, etc. However, I'm starting to finally accept one colossal truth about myself:
I am a sick-whiner.
I'm pretty much a whiner about everything else too, but when I'm sick it gets really bad. "I'm so headachey." "I don't want to do this reading." "I can't sleep in because I have work." "My brain hurts." Hi, honey, that's just called life. And school. And being gainfully (well, for free) employed (well, interning) because that's what you have to do to buy all those pretty shoes.
Make some tea, buy some more soup at the store, go to bed on time, and get it together. This is Harry Potter week, Maddy. Homie ain't playin.