Oooh, I thought I'd be able to wait until after tonight's raid to chug half the bottle of NyQuil, but with the way my immune system's rolled over and died, I think I'm going to be raiding Ulduar while high on acetaminophen. God, my brain. My nose. My lungs. Kill me.

Final grades for the semester:
WR100: B+
Public Policy: A-
Campaigns & Elections: A
Astronomy: A
Final GPA: 3.75

Fuck yeah, bitches.

Preakness tomorrow. Torn between wanting Mine That Bird (longshot Derby winner) or Rachel Alexandra (crazy awesome filly) to win. Leaning more toward Rachel Alexandra, even though a Triple Crown would be awesome... Blaaaargh.


*lunges for the NyQuil*


May. 14th, 2009 09:38 am
dt_maxwell: ([Misc] Fire)
Oh, Murphy, you are such a fucking bitch.

I lived on the sixteenth floor with at least twenty other girls for a good four months. I ate in the dining hall near every day, used the elevators at most buildings on campus constantly, held on to handrails while walking up and down stairs (or going up and down escalators), and frequently forgot to use my hand sanitizer after any such instances. The only time I got sick was a chest cold that resulted from the temperature doing crazy fluctuations over the course of three days.

Sunday, after I finish moving back home, I take a drink from a soda can my mom drank from. My sick mother. The next two days I'm coughing my lungs up. Yesterday my throat was sandpaper. Today I can't even speak. I have never gotten sick so fast before and haven't been this sick in a really freaking long time.

Fuck you, Murphy.
I gush about how much I love Boston (or bitch about the people running it), but it's stuff like the weather that makes me wonder just why the hell I want to stay here.

Three days ago we had snow. Two days ago the temperature was in the lower teens with a windchill that made it feel like single digits aka January or February. Yesterday was average for December. Today is mid-April: rainy, windy, and almost uncomfortably warm. Tomorrow is late December.

Coastal weather sucks, especially since the extreme temperature changes means I now have the Cold From Hell and I am rapidly running out of orange juice, V8 V-Fusion juice (strawberry banana, yum), and tissues. It's also becoming difficult to convince Bam-Bam that no, used tissues do not make for good toys. (He has his moments of brilliance, and this isn't one of them.) Jazz is snuggled against my side, steadfastly ignoring the antics of the younger generation for she is dignified and sulking because Mom just gave her her medicine.

Also having difficulties with the postal service. I've been expecting a package from Amazon with some Christmas gifts and I tracked it through the website. Website tells me they tried to deliver the package yesterday morning and a notice was left about picking the package up at the post office. One: I've never had to sign for a package from Amazon before and I've been ordering from them for years. Two: THERE WAS NO NOTICE. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot? So now I'm going to have to call the post office to see if they really DO have my package and if I can pick it up without the damn notice.

Something tells me this isn't going to be a good day.
I hate Macy's. I also hate their circulars, which always come with those God-awful perfume/cologne/whatever samples that stink up the house. They cause my chemical sensitivities to go haywire and not all the Advil, Tylenol, and NyQuil in the world can make the migraines and hyper-sensitivity to every other smell in the Goddamn world go the fuck away. OW, DAMNIT.

(I don't care how much Mom likes the deals she can find out about with those circulars. The next time one comes in the mail, I'm burning it.)

And yet still there were some amusing spots to the day.

Me: *huddled under a pile of blankets, sipping hot cocoa*
Jazz: *flopped in lap, snoring*
Mom: *pokes head into room* What are you watching?
Me: Sleeping Beauty.*
Mom: *raises eyebrow*
Me: It's pretty!
Mom: Mmmhmm.
Me: Maleficient is the best Disney villain ever!
Mom: Uh-huh.
Mom: Of course it is.
Mom: *raises other eyebrow*
Me: *hangs head* Maybe just a little.
Jazz: *snore*

A little later

Mom: What are you watching now?
Me: Bollywood musical.
Mom: Any plot?
Me: It's based on "White Nights" by Fyodor Dostoevsky.
Mom: Who?
Me: Wrote Crime and Punishment.
Mom: Oh. Any good?
Me: No idea, I never the short story and I hate Dostoevsky.
Mom: Ah.
Me: S'pretty, though.
Mom: Well, Bollywood.
Me: Yeah. Oooh, song and dance number, finally!
Jazz: Zzz...

A little bit ago

Mom: Hey, I think I saw the mail truck out the window.
Me: *whips head around* DID IT STOP HERE?
Mom: I think-
Me: *ZOOM*
Jazz: *is suddenly on the floor* Mrow!
Me: *zooms back in with a box* EEEE!
Mom: Eh?
Mom: Wha-
Mom: o_o;

*Anyone who knows me in RL (or, y'know, has my e-mail) can probably guess what my favorite song from this movie is.
So last night was awful.

I've been suffering from a head cold since about Saturday, when it first manifested as a sore throat. By yesterday afternoon I was congested as hell, had a migraine, my sinuses were going nuts, my right ear was throbbing, and I couldn't breathe through my nose at ALL (and swallowing was not fun because of that). I took some NyQuil before bed and hoped I'd be out like a light until morning.

No such luck. Woke up multiple times because I had rolled over and was so congested I couldn't breathe. Also had these really, really weird waking dreams - y'know, you're dreaming, but suddenly jerk awake, but the dream keeps on trucking anyway? Yeah, that didn't make things any better.

So here I am. Curled up in a nest of blankets on the couch, surrounded by make-shift trash bags for my tissues, coughing my lungs up, still congested, using my mom's laptop, and watching the Celtics rolling rally because nothing else is on. And the DayQuil's not working.

Misery loves company, and yet I have none. Rawr.

And also, next Friday? I'm having surgery. AGAIN. Three guesses as to why and the first two don't count.

Still, better to get it over with now rather than closer to when I have to head off to college.

Am also deeply in love with the game City of Villains. Eat your heart out, Blizzard. If any of you decide to join me, I play a character named Shadowcatch on the Infinity server. (Although despite my new love affair, I still play WoW. I need something to do while I wait for WotLK.)

Okay, time to pass out.
Stupid damn fluctuating temperatures giving me a new Cold from Hell. At this rate I'm going to get pneumonia before February.

At least my anti-congestion medicine is kicking in. I was starting to wear down a roll of paper towels after making mincemeat out of the tissues.

I also made Approbation with Distinction for second term. o_o Holy shit. First time in five years I finally get my own little purple congratulations card. Seeing that nice raw of A's on my report card still makes me grin like the Cheshire Cat.

Damnit, I still have to do APUSH. *grumbles* Kirkpatrick is a slave driver. Why couldn't I have gotten Ms. Elliot? She's hard, but she's nice.

P.S. TBC in a week! WOOHOO!

P.P.S. This icon never ceases to crack me up. Should go hunting for new ones, though.


Feb. 7th, 2006 01:42 pm
So, I woke up at my usual time of 6 this morning, feeling like complete and utter shit. Nasty cough. Splitting headache. Sandpaper throat. You know, like I was sick.

Mama takes one look at me and throws me back into bed. Yaaaaaaaaaay. Slept until 10:30. Felt more like a human being then.

Curled up on the couch and watched TV and listened to music and ate soup (mmhmm, homemade chicken noodle rocks). Toddled online, squealed over the stuff Blizzard is doing for patch 1.10 for WoW. Weather effects! Armor sets for the non-raiding player with quest lines that are SOLOABLE! I squee. (And then cough for like, five minutes straight. x_X)

Okies, back to the land of Tylenol of me.

Oh, I REALLY have no luck with health issues!

So. In addition to some more dizziness last year, I get a rash. A rash like I haven't had since the gas line was still connected. It itched like Almighty Hell.

This morning, the area where I had my pilandial (well, third surgery there wasn't so much a pilandial as there was yucky-icky-unhealthy tissue) is raw. So I'm shuffling around, doing my morning business, and whilist taking a quick rinse (mmhmmm, warm water is love), guess what's tumbling into the drain with the water?

Yessir, it's blood! Enough to make Dracula feel ill!

So. I jump out of the shower, start babbling hysterically to Mom, and she takes a look at the area and puts some antiseptic cream on the region to prevent infection (while she's doing this, Bushy (cat) is sitting next to me and clearly asking if he can help; I love the little guy). Mom says the car isn't starting either, so even if the incision area hadn't started acting like Vesuvius, I wouldn't be able to go to school anyway.

So. Dad should be back around, oh, noon-ish from his job-site on the Cape to help jumpstart the car. Because I've got an appointment with the doctor's. (And Mom was going to take me anyway, my brother didn't go to school yesterday because HE was pretty dizzy himself, and Mom's wondering if it's possible that there isn't carbon monoxide getting into the house.)

Yeah. Shoot me now. Please.

Oh my GOD, what an incredibly sucky day.

I woke up dizzy. And I don't mean dizzy as in slightly fuzzy eyesight and tired stumbling, I'm talking about THE WORLD IS ON ITS FUCKING SIDE dizzy.

Mom was freaking. Unfortunately, since I had a test in chemistry first period (and there was no fucking way in hell I was going to use up my one bloody study in the whole rotation), I insisted on going to school (have to be really fucked up at this point).

Okay. Think I only screwed up two easy questions. (Luckily Mom got my subscription filled for my ADHD meds, so hopefully I'll be able to concentrate better.)

English, in class writing assignment. It's not fun at all when you're staring at your paper and everything tilts even though you KNOW your head's still straight. Fucking hell, three paragraphs in twenty minutes is pretty damn lacking for me.

Third period, in basement. Dizziness increases liek woah. Give up, ask for a pass, and make my way slowly to the nurse's office so I don't trip over my own feet. Took me fives minutes to get to a place normally barely a 60-second walk away.

So. Nurses are concerned, they call Mom, she'll be able to show up at around 11:30 due to a doctor's appointment or somesuch.

Okay. I'll lay down for the rest of third, go to band, ask to sit out, then go back to the nurse's office. Simple.


Okay, third period ends. I get up, walk out to the little entry way, and the world doesn't just fucking spin, it turns bloody upside down. One of the nurses asks me to see if I'm okay (at this point she's grabbed onto my elbow before I could fall), and it takes me a few minutes to respond because I can't even remember my own fucking name, my head's so fucked up. (It wasn't until later that I'd remembered that The Crush was in the nurse's office and how fucking mortifying is that?)

Ugh. So. I sleep through all of fourth period. I wake up, and the world isn't as topsy-turvy as it once was, so I trudge up to my locker to get my stuff. When I get back to the office, Mom's there, so I just drop my head to her shoulder and take a quick nap. She practically carried me out of school.

When we got home, I slept for another hour and then entertained myself by watching Myster Science Theater 3000: The Movie on the Sundance Channel. Ain't nothing makes a girl feel better than hearing Tom and Crow jeer at Mike: "Mike broke the Hubble, Mike broke the Hubble!" And then chanting as they riff the movie: "Normal view! Normal View! NORMAL VIEW! NOOORMAAALL VIIIEEEWWW!"

Yays for geek love.

Going to go zonk again. Ja.



Nov. 7th, 2005 04:30 pm
Sick as a bloody dog. Massive migraine, fever, and violent nausea.


And I'm trying to finish my reading assessment for Sanford as we speak.

Double fuuuuuuuck.

But, in other news...

Now scroll down to the "Pandacam..."





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