Sick: a Diss Track

 I am sick at 11:47pm on my first day back to my first year of uni. In my something hundred by something hundred sqft dorm room. In the dark. Writing a blog post. A blog I didn't think I'd ever actually start up because I didn't know that when I pressed the "yes" button I saw on one of my friend's stories I'd actually have to commit to this. I put it off though - I might be a yapper but i'm no white girl. But here I am writing an entry about being sick.

Being sick pisses me off. What do you mean my body can't handle getting the shivers and has to attack every working cell I have? My ancestors fought in wars (probably), straight killing it, and I'm wrapped in a comforter in a hoodie and sweats, heater turned to the max, trembling because a breeze hit me wrong. Also sweating out the sick is disgusting. I hate being sweaty which is ironic because I love getting those gains. I cannot stand the sticky feeling and how my hair sticks to my face. ALSO, IT MEANS I HAVE TO CHANGE MY SHEETS SINCE I'M ABOUT TO STINK IT UP. Laundry day coming early. 

Actually, I don't even know if I can do my laundry because my silly silly building decided they want to do renovations or cleaning or something to the laundry room soon so I'm about to be unbelievably mad if I need to hike to a different building to do my laundry. I'm going to look sickly and disgusting while lugging a mesh bag of sheets, a runny nose and coughs, through the cold Vancouver weather, all just to clean some sweaty sheets. I hate sweating.

OH AND ON TOP OF ME BEING SICK, I ALSO HAD A CRAZY FIRST DAY BACK. Maybe I'll post that, it's a banger.

Whoever told me moving away would be a good idea is a demon from H E double hockey sticks. I'll be the first to say it, my home life was a struggle, but even then, a gal still feels the grievance of being away. Especially while I'm sick. If you know me, you know my mom is to me as a flame is to fuel; but right now, I'm missing the freak out of her. Most times my mother was quite sweet to me. She'd bring me medications, water, soup, run me a really hot bath to idk, ward off evil spirits or something, and she'd even sit with me when I felt really gross as a child. But if I had done something to make her mad, she'd ignore me. I think that's the part I hate the most about being sick. That weak feeling. When I'm all delirious and in pain, but can't do anything but lay there and take it. One time when I was a kid, my mom was mad at me and I got sick - the sweaty, groggy, stomach in knots type of sick. I cried and called for my mom until I couldn't. I don't remember much else besides how mad I was at myself for not being able to do anything. 

I still miss my mom though. and I miss being able to breathe out of both nostrils without my throat feeling all scratchy. One day, I will blow up the whole world and never be sick again. I have class tomorrow so I'm going to bed. Goodnight.

Daddy loves you.