emplagued

I think I'm sufficiently emplagued that it would probably be counterproductive to go to college tomorrow. Commuting, ick.

Gods, I hate being sick. It is annoying; I have things to do, and the stupid emplagued body says, Do this and you fall over, fool!

(It is actually today that I should go to college. But. I do not want to lie down because of plague. So Monday is still tomorrow.)

emplagued

I think I'm sufficiently emplagued that it would probably be counterproductive to go to college tomorrow. Commuting, ick.

Gods, I hate being sick. It is annoying; I have things to do, and the stupid emplagued body says, Do this and you fall over, fool!

(It is actually today that I should go to college. But. I do not want to lie down because of plague. So Monday is still tomorrow.)

(no subject)

I can has conjunction of unlucky stars?

Yes.

Beautiful day outside. But I am inside, with plague, and it is that time of month, damnit, and although the plague has abated much since Saturday, I still have very little brain, and an essay due the day after tomorrow which is still only halfway done.

And I ache, and consequently am feeling appallingly sorry for myself.

Gods, I hate this. Make it go away.

(no subject)

I can has conjunction of unlucky stars?

Yes.

Beautiful day outside. But I am inside, with plague, and it is that time of month, damnit, and although the plague has abated much since Saturday, I still have very little brain, and an essay due the day after tomorrow which is still only halfway done.

And I ache, and consequently am feeling appallingly sorry for myself.

Gods, I hate this. Make it go away.