“Now that I’m sick, nobody should make me angry or else I’ll spread my love to you. My love = my germ-ies.”

I’m sick. My brain feels like it’s fried. Good excuse for not having to think. It’s high time my brain needs a holiday. Been thinking and worrying about various things – family, school and work.

I’ve been wriggling like a worm in my bed. Trying to find the most comfortable position to sleep. My back and knees are aching. My head is pounding. My throat is sore and laced with phlegm that refuses to be expelled so much that I feel like just ripping it (my throat) out. Now, that’s the bad part of being sick.

Love me, love my germies.