And I threw away the key.

I feel the infection creeping its way up my throat.

My eye is swollen shut.

I am sick.

And I don't know what I'm doing, anymore, only that I don't want to do it. I suppose, though, that's life, and that's how we always end up. I don't know.

I am sick. and tired.

Day Four is killing me.

I was up all night with the worst spasms of shooting pain I've ever had. It's been going on all day.

I want to fucking kill myself.

And the fucking doctor isn't in on Saturdays.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

And Phillip is being a cock-sucking asshole too. Fucker.

Right, so I'm going to talk about menstration right now, so will the young and innocent of my flist (HAHA, you dirty slash lovers) please avert their eyes.

( God, it's been a while since I've done one of these. )

Also, has it struck anyone else here that I am a man? Like, a serious, serious man? Do women talk about this stuff? Are we secretly this disgusting and I'm missing it because I spend all my time on the interwebz and not in nail salons?

My mother asked me if I'm going to pledge (join a sorority, for all those not in the know/who aren't American). I'm like, yes. That's what I want to do with my time. Hang out in a house, with a bunch of girls, and chant letters of the greek alphabet by rote. That's my idea of fun.

Also, I'd never survive Rush Week. I'd get up, right in the middle of some bullshit speech by some girl with long, flowing, blond hair and fake nails, and have a heart attack. Right there. Right in the middle of all those people. From the sheer, staggering idiocy of Greek Life.

Though I suppose I must raise my hands and applaud them. Where else in the world can a group of elitists have massive parties, parade it as education, and get away with it?

I feel like so much shit today.

Aimee (gypsy_echo), Wednesday is 14th in the table, I didn't get Sheva--he's still at Chelsea--and JT went to Arsenal, not even kidding. I suppose it balances out, though, because Theirry Henry went to Chelsea from Arsenal last season. But we just beat Arsenal 1-0 away, so that's really exciting. I don't think we're going to be in Europe next year. And we faced Liverpool in the League Cup final last, and lost on penalties, sorry. :( But this season we've reached the quarter finals at the moment, so good beans, that. :D And we won the derby against United, who were promoted with us, :(

Got a couple of books last night, my foot feels a lot better, and I am once again laid up with absolutely the worst stomach problems on the planet. God, this sucks. And I was supposed to be shopping for a wedding dress today, which didn't pan out, abviously. I'm kind of happy it didn't, though, because I feel really fat, so I'm just gonna wear my prom dress to this thing. I know it fits, and it won't make me feel bad to put it on, so it's a win-win.

I feel like taking a baseball bat and hitting the cinder-block and stucco wall outside of my home repeatedly until I feel better.

Ugh.

I feel, like shit.

Not even joking.

I got owned by my GI tract.

( This may be disgusting for some viewers. )

See? Isn't my journal, like, the shit? Other people post about boring shit, like their day, or their fight with their boyfriend, or their dog. Not me. I post about interesting stuff, like lamaze and epidurals.