So, Liz decided that I should blog about the unfortunate things that happened to me this month because we feel that it is adequate to have a novel based off of. To release some steam, I'm going to paint an image of my shitty ass month for you. Hmmm...where to begin?
I could of course start off by detailing how I spent my New Years Eve babysitting 4 devil children from 5pm to 5am...honestly the spawn of satan himself....but thats nothing in comparison to the rest of the month... Well, lets start with my first day of classes, January 6th. I woke up at 8am, got ready, and went to my first class: psychology. I really wanted to be in the class, but of course I'm a freshman and so I got a shitty registration appointment and therefore I was spot 78 on the wait list. So I go to class, sit through the whole lecture, and the professor lets in 5 kids from the wait list. Cool. Only 73 more spots... Great. So then I walked in the freezing freaking cold weather to get some lunch. I go to taco bell, eat my crunch-wrap supreme, and head to the MLB to wait for my spanish class to start at 1pm. So I'm sitting outside the class, reading the psychology book. I start to feel kinda dizzy but I figured fuck it, and kept reading. More students started to fill up the basement of the MLB. All of a sudden, I got really hot all over, like I mean FRICKINNNNNN HOT. Instant sweat. So I stood up, and basically ripped off my coat like the hulk. And then I gagged. So Im like shit, better head to the bathroom. As I'm pretty much pushing people over to get to the bathroom, I threw in my hand in front of everyone. Embarrassed, and still vomiting, I ran to the bathroom--where i then proceeded to throw up countless times. Throw up count--3. Strike 1--Food poisoning.
So I mean, that was embarrassing. I even called Taco bell and filed a complaint...those little fuckers didn't do anything. Hey Michigan League Taco Bell-- EAT SHITTTT! Whatever, I'm over it. Its not like I still talk about it or anything... So life went on. Until Tuesday. Tuesday I had class from 10am-8:30pm. When I got back from class I was freaking tired. And my whole body hurt. So I went to bed around 11pm. Next thing I know, I woke up at 3pm, and was still exhausted...as if I drank 5 gallons of pudding, rode the tilt-a-whirl til I threw up, drank my own vomit, rolled in it, and then walked home. And then mowed the lawn, with scissors. lol. So I call my mom, and she says that I should eat something...but I wasn't even hungry so that was dumb. So when Wizzy got back from class at 4pm, her logical ass said I should go to UHS. She took me, and for some reason I let her drive my car. But we were probably safer that way anyways... So we get to UHS, and first of all some foreign fuck had an issue with parking so we had to wait in the line for about 10 minutes. So we get in. I fill out the dumb ass form so the lazy ass nurses can take their time seeing me. Honestly, do they even have a degree? Just saying. Okay so then they tell me to go to floor three, and i drag my lifeless body to the elevator. At this point I might of well have jumped off the 4th floor to my death. So some nurse escorted me to this hidden room, where I laid in the dark on a bed and she waited on my hand and foot. And hey, that wasn't half bad. Then the doctor came in. Asked a few more dumb questions, such as, "Do you feel alright?" uhhhh fuck no or else I wouldnt be here dumbass. So whatever. He then tells me that I have a rare stomach virus, that I can't eat til Sunday, that I can't go to class til Monday, that he's going to call me a cab to get back to north campus, and that if I feel any worse, I must to go the emergency room immediately. So i mean, THAT was reassuring. So me and Liz leave the UHS. I call my mom, tell her the low-down, and shes pretty much shittin her pants thinking her daughter is dead or dying or something. Whatever. In all that madness, we forgot to get the parking ticket stamped, so the fatass lady in the parking toll booth wanted $32...uhhhh no? you're an idiot, get a real job. She wanted proof that I was at the UHS, and as if my dying soul or tattoo across my forehead exclaiming "i feel like shit, fuck this" wasn't enough, she made us show her the dumb note. Eat my ass bitch, I hope when you touched that paper you caught my virus. Working in a toll booth is for scum, you deserve it. lol. Then I decided to go home, because my mom is nice. So for the next three days I went through a series of shitty ups and downs--and I literally mean shitty, because I rotated between not being able to go to the bathroom and crapping brown water from my anus. At times my stomach felt like that fatass from the toll booth was stepping on it, and other times, I was grunting trying to push out a little coffee from my ass. Fml, right? Basically, I was going number 1 from my number 2 spot. Then on saturday, I came back to ann arbor to babysit, where I had to rotate between shitting my brains out and holding a crying bratty baby. gee, isn't life grand? I didn't see solid shit, other than the dirty diaper that made me gag, until the following wednesday. I've never been so glad to shit out a big poop in my life. Thats what my life had come to...excitement over bowel movements. Strike 2--Gastroenteritis.
So by wednesday, I was feeling pretty good. Friday I played in the Northwood dodgeball game...well technically me and Liz didn't play, because I hurt myself before the game...go figure. I was sitting on the bleachers and slid off, scraping the crapppppp outta my fattass thigh. felt good. I decided on Friday that I should go to my friends birthday party. Liz didn't wanna go cause she was tired, so I asked Ryan, and as one can expect, he turned me down. Whatevvvvvv fuckerrrr. lol So I went by myself. I was in the mood to party, thats for sure. And for some reason my dumb ass was so excited that I felt better, I decided to drink 12 shots in 1 hour...good choice dip shit. Next thing I know, I'm coaching myself out of a random ass apartment, and calling my friends to try to explain to them where I am and how to pick me up. So of course, I was drunk, and I said dumb things--which they still continue to bring up. I'm embarrassing when I'm sober, let alone when I'm drunk--but HEY hollllaaaa liz and james. just get married, alright? So here I am, on Geddes Avenue, waiting for my friends to get there. And let me tell you, it seemed like it was taking forever. As I'm writing this I'm also realizing that I was half blacked out...for instance, I have a complete audio memory of the night, but no images stored in my brain. Is this a problem? I'm not sure... So james and liz get there. I explain to them where I parked my car, and Liz goes to get it. As we're driving back, james says to me "are you gonna throw up? want me to roll the window down?" and I reply "oh no james, I'm not gonna throw up" and I swear to god ten seconds later I upchucked my weight in vomit. Now, I was pretty sure that I was puking outside the window the whole time. I thought I felt the wind in my hair, but that was probably vomit because I never even bothered to lean towards the window. I puked all inside the car, and all over myself. But hey, better out than in. Puke rocks! I <3 puke and shit! So somehow Liz and James got me up the stairs of our apartment, I changed my shorts, laid in the futon, made liz read me texts all night, and continued to vomit. Cool. Throw up count: at least 10, but how would I know... Strike 3--Alcohol Overdose
Nothing bad happened the next day, except for the fact that I had to babysit at 8am with a hangover...but hey, fuck it. Come Monday I was ready to return to class. I wanted to look cute so I wore a skirt, leggings, and a cute shirt. I went to spanish, took my test, and then got on the bus so that I could join james for lunch at bursley. It was snowing something awful that day...icy, wet, cold. Pretty slippery too. While I was on the bus, he texted me saying that I was taking too long. By the time I got off the bus, I needed a short cut. I then headed for the shortcut near bursley dining hall--a straight shot through the woods, downhill. I got to the top of the 90 degree hill, and saw two students heading up. I then, as a true jokester, coached them on how to proper get up this ice and snow covered mountain. They both made it up successfully, and one of the girls stayed at the top to coach me down the hill. Well what happened next was that dumb bitches fault. She says "I think its better if you take it fast, so that you just get it over with". Well, I don't know if she was serious or joking, but I started walking down the hill quickly, and pretty soon intertia took over. fuck my life. I'm basically sprinting down this ice hill, until the reach the bottom, where my knees allowed me to stop--and then slide 15 feet on the concrete using my knees as a sled. So I'm laughing my butt off. I think this was the funniest thing ever, and then the dumb girl was like OMGGGG ARE YOU OKAYYYY? yeah you cunt im fine. So I stand up, brush off all the snow and sleet thats accumlated on my body, and walk in to bursley. At some point, I look down at my leg, and see my knee gushing blood. Uhhh...cool. I get up to bursley, and the card swiper guy has totally seen the whole thing happen, and he was laughing at me. Asshole. After a while I realized that my other knee was bleeding way worse, the legging just hadnt ripped. Whatever. Nurse Liz took care of me, but those fuckers didn't stop bleeding for 36 hours.... totally normal, right? Oh, and I had gauze on them, and when they stopped bleeding, the gauze thought for some reason that it was my skin, and it was completely stuck. Sooooo cool. I had to soak in the bathtub, while Liz googled how to get it off. And let me tell you, some real idiots ask questions on yahoo answers. morons. Today my knees still hurt, and they continue to break open and bleed from time to time. Strike 4--Wounds.
Hmmmm okay so my knees still hurt. And then randomly my fucking back starts hurting. I can't sleep in a comfortable position...it all hurts. Awesome. Strike 5--Ouchy Back
To take us back to the begginging, Liz suggested that I write this blog after I informed her of some serious cramps that I was having. Strike 6--Whats next?
Honestly, all I have to say is that I dont know what I've done wrong to deserve this shit. I'm a nice girl! I pay taxes! I'm a fucking nanny! I eat fruits and vegatables, and I only kill spiders, and I can't even go one single fucking day this month with a normal healthy body. Please inform me of what I did wrong to deserve all this shit. lol But, its January 31st...meaning only 22 more hours of hell and it'll be february....Who knows whatll happen! <3
