I am sick. That's vomit and spinny head sick, not 'thoughts of your ma' sick. I didn't mean to get drunk on Friday. Really I didn't. After such a stressful day of matriculating uni and facing the horrendous picture on my student card for yet another year, I knew I needed alcohol. And with Young B and Straight Man A in tow there wasn't much I could do but drink the cheap alcopops and eat peppery chips. The peppery portion of chips was all I'd eaten all day. I was hungover from the previous evening. I was more tired than a real tired person. The only place I should have been was in my bed. I shouldn;t have been in the pub doing 'buy one get one free' deals. Nevermind. I had about 10 alcopops and hung out with my buds while speaking a lots of nonsense about stuff I really shouldn't have been talking about, even to myself but drunken confessions aside, it was more than a swell ol' evening. Of course it didn;t feel so swell when my gut began to swell in the middle of the night and I vomited til I thought I my eyes may release themselves from their sockets. It just wouldn't stop. It hurt so bad but the bile just kept on coming. Being well accustomed to drunken pukes, I knew this was differnet. Fuck. I was a real ill person. I called in sick to my work, with much disapproval from my boss and lay in bed downing Pepto Bismal by the bottle. I'm not a good patient but luckily I had a nurse in the form of Lil Red who catered to my every need, not that she had much choice with this lazy dollop just lying there like death was looming. With the Pepto Bismal and 13 hours sleep I had from sunday - saturday I though I was swell to go to the pub on sunday afternoon, for a water and to watch everyone else smoke and drink. I made it into town upon my shaky legs and as the nausea had subsided I thought it would be a real good idea to order up nachos with cheese and jalepeno chillis. Always a wise move when you've been vomiting, really. So, needless to say I was sent to bed at 5pm where I stressed over the day of uni to follow. I feel about 2% better but still feeling like I died and have made a 'buffy-esque' recovery. It's not a pleasant feeling, being incarcarated amongst 1000s of fresher students who squeal so loudly and all try and sit on your knee on the overly packed bus. Neither is it pleasant to have bright pink piss after so much pepto bismal which I did not, I repeat NOT, buy because I have diarhea. The man at the counter decided to talk very loudly about the pains of diarhea to me whilst I stood there pink as Pink with a hoard of about 50 people jostling me from behind trying to get served. Mortified I was. Anyway, enough about non solid stools and more about class because that's where I'm headed now. Oh how life is cruel.
My sweatband that is actually cutting my circulation off
When things are happy with people I like
The cheese sandwish with my name and the toilet's name all over it
My blue sparkly Hard Candy nails... divine
My painful throbbing eyes
Finding out shit stuff about someone you respected
Sending texts to the wrong people
People who talk to me like I am 4
Diarhea, which I DO NOT have...