It has been a miracle that I haven't been sick yet this semester, especially since there were a number of weeks with late nights and not the greatest nutrition, but I survived thus far. Until last week. Last week may possibly have been the week sent from the devil's spawn in hopes of thwarting my all existence into total chaos. It is my absolute belief that college professors have a meeting before school begins, before the syllabi are printed off, before room assignments are even made, where they decide which week they want to make every student absolutely suffer (besides finals week of course). They must chuckle quietly to themselves as they parry back and forth trying to get all of their midterms to fall into the same week too. It is a murderous business that they bandy with.
And so last week consisted of a test in my Family History class, an exam in British Literary History (which was no small feat- you try memorizing which Romantic poet said what in which poem and why on earth why!), on top of which we also had a 5-page paper due in the same class, plus another paper due in Creative Writing (which may be the class I work my hardest in and try my best in), and don't forget the take-home exam that was due in my Mission Prep class. My "aha" moment came last week on Saturday around 4pm when I had that 5-pager due at 6pm and I had yet to begin it. I realized there was no way I would finish it by staying at home, so I trudged up to campus, locked myself in at work (great place to study, no distractions with everyone coming in and out like at the library) and wrote straight for an hour and a half, wherein I finished the paper and ran upstairs to drop off. That was my "aha" moment when I remembered "Oh yeah, this is why I chose English" :)
Once the stress finally died down of that wonderfully hellatious week I guess my body decided to break down too. No more need to force myself to stay healthy and active. Now here I am on a beautiful fall Tuesday morning with gunk in my nose and a scratchy throat. The body aches are starting to set in too, but I am pretending that I do not feel them, if I do they just might actually become real and begin to take over my already viciously exhausted body. It is a sorry state of denial, but oft times believing you are sick is the only reason why you truly are. So I am telling myself it is only a little cold, something trifle and easily taken care of with insubordinate amounts of water, orange juice, lots of vitamin-C and a ton of Emergen-C. I should probably go buy some of all that then, hmmm...I've only got water at home...
And so this beautifully treacherous fall day was begun with pulling out my "sick" outfit- the biggest, old-school style Brigham Young University sweatshirt I could possibly own. It has survived five winters of Utah cold, one semester of a sinus infection and tonsilitus, a Christmas with a cold so bad that I had to take horse-sized pills of anitbiotics (so big I had to cut them in half to swallow), several runny noses, a number of despondent days after break ups, and a great amount of lazy days watching movies and procrastinating the need-to-be-done homework.
Yep, it's a "big sweatshirt" kind of day
Ick
