IT'S ICK BEING SICK

A million, tiny, evil li'l creatures hammer at the inside of my head. With each step I take, they object to motion by hammering even harder. They seem to be spreading throughout my body, which feels like it's a thousand years old and creaks with every breath.

I haven't had a fever in 5 years now. I was beginning to compare myself to Bruce Willis in Unbreakable, so it thwacked me hard and then took on a jeering note by playing hide-and-seek every few hours.

What irritates the most is that I'm bored. B.O.R.E.D. It's bad enough having had to cancel all weekend plans to be tied to your bed, but having no life whatsoever makes me wish some things could go my way.

• People should log on to Facebook more often and keep changing their status messages for my entertainment. It's not fair that they've got better things to do. Bah.
• I want to be sick enough to have to consume more Benadryl. It's tasty, and the alcohol content could make me happily silly in the head.
• A peg on my leaky nose. I hate having to roam around with a handkerchief.
• My sense of humour has gone a-missing. No amount of looking for it has borne fruit. Apparently, it has an aversion to the aforementioned kerchief.
  
• I'm offered cheesy food just so that I eat something. I discover I have no interest. What is up with that?! :O
  
• As I type this out, the pounding in my head begins again.The impish creatures have sensed that the kerchief is around. Methinks they're having a secret love affair, considering how they always attack me together.

For all those that read this, help a sick friend- get more active on Facebook and Orkut. In the meanwhile, I shall go look for my sense of humour under the bed.