so, somehow, in one of the 8-step trips between rooms that I take during a day, I managed to twist my ankle. twist my ankle! I thought twisted ankles were a myth created solely to get a girl out of gym class... damnit. and I'm already sick. I'm sick and I have a twisted ankle. don't you think this could better be used by someone who is actually *in school* right now?
I swear it's a sympathy plague. I just hope we're negatively correlated. i.e. I hope he's getting better. ok, technically I hope I'm getting better, too - although there's no evidence I'm physically improving. damnit. let's go back to this not having any cosmic significance and just pour on the Sudafed and the Puffs until it surrenders.
damn you, sympathy plague. you will go down. and twisted ankle, you will not keep me from going out today, so you might as well quit aching. ::sticks out tongue, which hopefully is not getting ideas from the rest of my system:: (it never really "healed", that tongue plague. not in so many words. so many words as one.)
I just used the phone. I am such a superhero.
~me