Dear Cold Season,
I would like you to leave me alone from now on. Lying abed all day is not in any way attractive, and it makes my hair look like Gene Wilder is hibernating on my head. I understand you have a quota to make, but cough medicine is expensive, and if you don't read the directions, is pretty much useless. My hacking and coughing sounds awful and alarms my neighbors when I shamble to the mailbox. I am running out of pajamas and I am watching far too many old Angel and CSI episodes on Netflix. I just wanted to let you know I'm done being your bitch, and that I fully intend on ignoring you tomorrow.
that's right folks, i'm done with all this lame-assness. i'm done using being sick as an excuse to be lazy and not eating right and not getting anything done. i'm going to weigh-in tomorrow and hope the scale gods take pity upon me and at least not show a gain.
i got a call to do a "pre-interview" whatever the fuck that's supposed to be a front for, but hey, it's a possible possibility. i can whore myself out to the retail powers that be and hope at least someone needs someone to do bitch work for the holiday season. in case no one knew, my parents have forbidden me to have a job next semester, and i think it's for the best but it still terrifies me. this recent stint of unemployment has been a trial for me. i've learned to accept help from others and not be so embarrased that i don't have a job. but hey, lots and lots of people are unemployed and not doing half as well as i am so, i'll take my current situation as a blessing and just learn to live with what i have.