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i'm a bit of a reverse hypochondriac in the sense that i'll just ignore everything that might be wrong with me until it goes away. if i show any symptom of injury or ill health, i'll always try to wait it out in the hopes that it'll magically cure itself. sometimes it works, sometimes it gets to the point where i need to confront whatever's making me sick cause i'm laid up shivering and sniffling with a knife in my throat trying not to cough up a lung while all rational thought eludes me. i've been trying to hold out for the school week out of obligation to this play i'm in, but after being present for 2/3 performances, i think i've finally been done in this time. my one consolation prize is that i'm missing the chemistry test i did not study for. i feel like a 21st century raskolnikov. not in the 'committed a double-homicide on two old women' sense, but in the 'feverish, maybe a little guilty and being dramatic about it' sense. maybe what i really need is someone to feed me soup with a firm grip 'round my head, razumikhin style.
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