collapsed in a wretched heap.

surprisingly, the title has little to do with the disease that has paralyzed me in a proverbial full nelson for the past four weeks.

[btw, i am convinced that student health centers are literally the last place you ever want to go to cure something. during my appointment, the doctor poked me in the (face) cheeks and forehead, asked me if they hurt, and then seemed disappointed when i told him that i thought the whole point of a skull was to protect me from being hurt by pokes like that. at the conclusion of our session, he threw a scrip into my hand, mumbled something about antibiotics and yeast infections that totally caught me off guard (tmi, apologies) and then told me i was done. didn't mention what was wrong or what the meds were for. pretty sweet.]

so anyway.


if you want to truly empathize with what's really bothering me these days, you'll read conan's strike diary.

(don't front like you didn't know where this was all heading from the very beginning)