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It’s 11:30pm. I haven’t completed a day of work since like a long time ago and I’m still weirdly sick. I haven’t been this sick in a pretty long time. I think being awake for so long this weekend probably weakened me more than I thought.
But, the grownup in the house is still sick and all her relatives have been sick.
Since everything is about me (don’t let me tell you otherwise), and since by everything, I mean Everything, then I know you’ll be interested to hear my other theory on why I’m so sick and why being in the bathroom has because a reliably traumatic event: I used to smoke in the bathroom.
I am beginning to associate the bathroom less with lighting up before wiping up, and more with I’d rather be anywhere but here, North Korea would be better.
Anyway, I’m starting to cough stuff up, which is also weird for me except when I’m very sick, which isn’t very often, and the reason I don’t cough much is, well, you might imagine I have a little more control over that reflex than most people.
Another side effect of that stuff is another side effect on other reflexes. Some of them pleasurable, ’nuff said. That side effect, along with the coughing control, appears to have gone away, for now.
There is no logical explanation in my head, so I’m going to give God credit for arranging this to train me not to smoke. If you have a logical explanation in your head, then please keep it to yourself, because I need mine.
Besides, Everything is about me, so I can think whatever I want.
Peace.
[I’m not going to read what I just wrote, Mrs. Jones. I love you, Sally, but don’t make me tonight.]
What is this crap in my eyes? Don’t want to know.
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