Being sick sucks

Well, duh, Anne. Of course it does. But I am still going to whine about it for a little while. I hate that I had to take off time from work because I couldn't breathe or talk without sounding like a congested man. Even now, three days later, I still can't breathe.

And now, I am bored out of my mind. I've done all of my homework for next week. I've even written my post for the next online class session (scary to have it done before the Monday noon deadline). I can't settle on any of the fun books. My parents have had to bring them to me (sometimes I wonder about their tastes). But I can't go to the library because it is my biggest pet peeve when someone who is obviously sick comes in. Grrr.

At least I have my knitting and my cat. I can be a crazy cat lady huddled in the corner. God, how depressing.

This is why I shouldn't talk to anyone or write anything when I am in a pissy mood. Or read anything. The chicklit book I just finished was supposed to be (and I am sure is) funny. In this mood, however, I just found it incredibly depressing. It was about a girl who has to move back to her hometown to take care of her dad after a car accident. She just keeps being reminded about high school everywhere she looks. It's like she can't get away from that time and people never grow out of it. Sound familiar?

" 'High school was like an extened four-year test,' Jeannie said. 'We just happened to test well, that's all.'
'An extened four-year test that leaves permanent scars.' I shook my head. 'Or requires years of therapy.'"

Well, reading that, the book doesn't sound funny at all. Hmmm.