Sick making Part 2 / Sick making / Trimming fat / Passing Afternoon (Iron & Wine) / If it bleeds, we can kill it / Family Computer / The perceived conditionality of love / And even for that do I love you the more / How are you? / Sitcom /

:: Sunday, May 09, 2010 ::

Sick making Part 3

As predicted, the germs decided to take their party further down my throat where they could further mess up the plumbing in my body. Unfortunately, at this rate, they'll be living it up in the cushy tissues of my lungs tomorrow. While swallowing isn't so much a chore, breathing now is and I'm sure my pulse isn't supposed to race like that.

Being sick for me, is a lot like being drunk. Or perhaps more accurately, being drunk, for me, is a lot like being sick. Either way, neither is an experience I cherish. If I drink, it's because others are doing so - it's certainly not for enjoyment, as I've still not discovered the right alcohol per second rate to give me a pleasant high that does not also pound at my temples and make me uncomfortably warm and dizzy.

To further illustrate the similarity of my drunk/sick state I find that when I'm sick I'm equally unable to formulate clear thoughts. Apparently, infectious germs, much like their wheaty counterparts, cause me to lose my inhibitions - possibly because my higher brain functions are suppressed. As such, I'm MORE likely to make a fool of myself when I'm sick, and possibly even blubber all over innocent bystanders, proclaiming that I love them, I really do and did they know they were my best friends?

It comes to my being physically vulnerable, I suppose. Somehow it brings with it the unwelcome side effect of being emotionally vulnerable (or to use the derisive teenage lingo, "emo"). I admit it. I feel "emo" at the moment, notwithstanding the fact it's Mother's Day and I owe a great deal to my mother who sadly, always goes unappreciated.

(I do feel like quite an idiot now since it struck me that I behave pretty much like Bella [yes, allow me the indulgence of a Twilight reference and the bracket within a bracket. It's a part of me now, so accept it, warts and all] who basically saves all her love up for Edward darling, leaving no consideration or affection for friends who are not Cullens, and little more than barely disguised disdain for her parents [who, by her telling, are completely pathetic and unreasonable]. I have been guilty of the same.)

Note that being sick does not detract from my charm and witticisms. It appears that I can do this pretty much on auto-pilot without having to think carefully. See, I can't mark because that requires judgement and evaluation, but I can write vapid posts about being sick because that only requires that I put together words that form readable sentences.

So much easier.

As much as I enjoy blathering on and on about absolutely nothing, I think I really must go and lie down. The germs are making my fingers twitchy and quite frankly, while this is not a rant, it may degenerate into one, which I'd like to avoid, thank you very much.

And if you would be so kind, if you're in the habit of reading out my posts, whether aloud, or in your head, would you please do so in a posh British accent? It portrays the exact sort of experience I would like you to have.

Till next time, cheerio!

:: And that's all she wrote 3:09 PM [+] ::
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