(Polls are OPEN over at these wonderful, discerning people, with lovely taste, and you should all go and click on the little thingies that says The Compulsive Confessor, and put me first. Okay? No pressure or anything, you understand.)
Anyway. I'm DONE with being all upbeat and la-la-la and oh look pretty fairies. I have a cold and a cough, blocked ears, which make me feel like I'm under the fucking OCEAN, and a fever that comes and goes as it pleases, and then BREAKS and then I'm all weak and sweaty and chapped lips and dehydration and my CHEST sounds like I'm FIFTY and oh, it's all very notnice. I hate everyone. I want to spin cocoon and lie there for seven hundred years and have NO human contact. I want to be Beast in Lair, emerging every now and then to growl at people who come too close. Right now, though, I'm closer to being Linda Blair in The Exorcist, what with all the green goo, and the gravelly voice of hell. Next my head will rotate on my neck of its own will, and I'll start masturbating with a giant cross. Meh. Phlegm. (And oh, do you think this is too much information? DO I LOOK LIKE I FUCKING CARE? If I suffer, the whole world must suffer too)
You know why else the world sucks? Because, on Saturday night, I DRAGGED myself out of bed, despite the ear ringing and the head spinning and put on pretty clothes and drove to dandiya event and it was all very like you know, no alcohol, and everyone very traditional and everything and good fun. I even learnt how to dandiya without poking myself in the eye. And then (and this STILL brings tears when I think about it) someone STOLE my phone! My Motorazr v3i! The love of my bitter old life! The one thing that kept me sane! The beauty! Just because I thought oh, how nice, tradition and religion and wholesome fun. I HATE WHOLESOME FUN. I declare a war on wholesome fun. No one at TC would've stolen my phone, but even if they HAD, at TC, my guard would be up and my bag would be at my side, and I would've been wearing JEANS and my phone would be in my pocket. This universe is out to get me.
And, I was just congratulating myself on getting through this entire year without being sick, and how the days of falling ill were in the past, and really, I am as healthy as a horse, and then! Like payback! I am struck down in the prime of my youth. My oldest and dearest friend in the whole world, Leela, is getting married. (Only, hmph, I had to find out through ORKUT and really, if she is reading this, she should know THIS would be a good time to call me). So I had dinner with her younger sister Maya and we sighed, and talked about the Days That Were and I'm never going to get married. No one will marry me. I will be that strange lady everyone knows, who grows old alone, with her cats, and children will point at me in the streets and LAUGH. And Leela will no longer be Leela, and we won't be all single (except she hasn't been for a while, but still. It was a POSSIBILITY) and then. She'll have kids! I'm too young to have kids! Even by proxy!
Thank you, by the way, for listening to me whine. It's been dreadful.