I Don't Feel Like Dancin'
Cause I've been acting like sour milk fell on the floor
It's your fault you didn't shut the refridgerator
Maybe that's the reason I've been acting so cold.
Since Christmas I have been proclaiming "worst week EVER". Every week. But then all of a sudden it was the worst week ever and I didn't even realise it until it was nearly over. I think.
My grandfather died last Thursday. The same day that I recived a poopy mark in a dumb online discussion, a "NO!" with an arrow on my midterm instead of a simple 'x', a bowl of mushroom soup from Tim Hortons that was full of curdled chunks the size of golfballs.
I spent the weekend with my brother and sister in law sleeping in my bed while I slept on the floor. I missed school on Monday to attend to my grand-dad's funeral and my uncle (my uncle that I sometimes wish never existed) said I had "attitude" because I don't hug and kiss him enough. I felt guilty about missing school because I was supposed to be part of some study for one of my professors (along with 56 others) and couldn't go on Monday to participate.
Tuesday night I finally got to begin studying for my 45% midterm on saturday and spen the night trying to knock at least two spots off my 50 item to-do list while stuffing my face with diet coke and cinnamon hearts.
Wednesday morning I woke up at 6am and barfed up all those cinnamon hearts and diet coke. I then puked so much I literally could puke no more and spend a good part of the day laying on the bathroom floor wishing I was dead.
Wednesday night my friends came over to check on me. I told them I had to go sit down because I felt dizzy, so they left and while I tried to make my way back to the couch I blacked out and smacked my head off the fireplace.
Oh, and I tore up the whole side of my back on the way down too.
Thursday morning the TA of my pharmacology class (yes... the TA) told me that if I wanted to miss my exam on Saturday I needed proof that I was sick. I felt like finding out where he lived and tossing my cookies all over his door step.
So off I went to the hospital. I drove myself to the ER, was seen by the triage nurse who took a blood pressure of 102/56 and rushed me in to a room to receive IV fluids.
They pumped me full of gravol and saline and when I could prove I could keep a whole can of ginger-ale down without ralfing they let me go home.
They made me promise to stay in bed for the next five days.
I emailed the TA and he told me:
"Saturday afternoon, Monday night... or zero, you choose"
The compassion is overwhelming.
And now, one week and one day since this all began I am off to class. Why? because even though I should be in bed with my head in a bucket, I've been told that missing 3 days of school is already too much.
Besides, I wouldn't want to mess up my professors study.
Cause I've been acting like sour milk fell on the floor
It's your fault you didn't shut the refridgerator
Maybe that's the reason I've been acting so cold.
Since Christmas I have been proclaiming "worst week EVER". Every week. But then all of a sudden it was the worst week ever and I didn't even realise it until it was nearly over. I think.
My grandfather died last Thursday. The same day that I recived a poopy mark in a dumb online discussion, a "NO!" with an arrow on my midterm instead of a simple 'x', a bowl of mushroom soup from Tim Hortons that was full of curdled chunks the size of golfballs.
I spent the weekend with my brother and sister in law sleeping in my bed while I slept on the floor. I missed school on Monday to attend to my grand-dad's funeral and my uncle (my uncle that I sometimes wish never existed) said I had "attitude" because I don't hug and kiss him enough. I felt guilty about missing school because I was supposed to be part of some study for one of my professors (along with 56 others) and couldn't go on Monday to participate.
Tuesday night I finally got to begin studying for my 45% midterm on saturday and spen the night trying to knock at least two spots off my 50 item to-do list while stuffing my face with diet coke and cinnamon hearts.
Wednesday morning I woke up at 6am and barfed up all those cinnamon hearts and diet coke. I then puked so much I literally could puke no more and spend a good part of the day laying on the bathroom floor wishing I was dead.
Wednesday night my friends came over to check on me. I told them I had to go sit down because I felt dizzy, so they left and while I tried to make my way back to the couch I blacked out and smacked my head off the fireplace.
Oh, and I tore up the whole side of my back on the way down too.
Thursday morning the TA of my pharmacology class (yes... the TA) told me that if I wanted to miss my exam on Saturday I needed proof that I was sick. I felt like finding out where he lived and tossing my cookies all over his door step.
So off I went to the hospital. I drove myself to the ER, was seen by the triage nurse who took a blood pressure of 102/56 and rushed me in to a room to receive IV fluids.
They pumped me full of gravol and saline and when I could prove I could keep a whole can of ginger-ale down without ralfing they let me go home.
They made me promise to stay in bed for the next five days.
I emailed the TA and he told me:
"Saturday afternoon, Monday night... or zero, you choose"
The compassion is overwhelming.
And now, one week and one day since this all began I am off to class. Why? because even though I should be in bed with my head in a bucket, I've been told that missing 3 days of school is already too much.
Besides, I wouldn't want to mess up my professors study.
posted by Laura at 7:12 AM
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