Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Sick Sick Sick

Just the week that I wanted to start my column, I fall sick.

My mum's being motherfuckingly anal about everything around the goddamned house. I'm sorry to have to use these words but they are the true manifestations of my feelings so do bear with me. Recently she's been irritatingly picky about every single thing that goes wrong in the house. She's so damn irritable: the slightest spark (i.e. me misplacing my book, a door not closed, a stray hair, a dirty floor) sets off a bonfire of pent-up rage and screaming. It's as if she was PROGRAMMED to sieve out every last wrong, misplaced, extra, missing, excess piece of shit lying around the house and launch into a massive tirade about this book that book lying around. It's so irritating and furthermore I worry if this is a trend that's going to carry on. She's so goddamned negative. Sometimes I wonder why she can't be like other mothers. Understanding, kind, patient, logical, warm, full of fun and positive. Sorry, I talked nothing about me being sick.

My head hurts. My nose hurts. I've got a temperature. My throat feels like sandpaper every time I swallow. I can't think straight. I can't walk straight. My legs hurt.


Thank you.

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