Hey kids, here’s a pro tip:
Don’t get sick on the first day of your new internship.
Saturday night, my sister came home after a while of not being home. Maybe a week and a half or so. I have since taken refuge in her room because I moved away from campus housing. To clarify, it was completely and 100 percent not my choice to take over her room. However, Saturday night she comes home, realizes that my other sister is using the guest cot and decides to camp out on my floor. Little did she tell anyone that she was extremely sick.
Guess who ended up getting said “sick?”
I was in a contaminated room with her for probably close to ten hours or so, because I had to get up for work the next day (Sunday). So, I’m at work and everything is fine. Even yesterday, everything was fine. Then at about 7 or 8 p.m, I start feeling a tickle in my throat. You know the lump that all of a sudden springs up on you and you’re left wondering, “Where did that come from?” I figured it was nothing more than a little sore throat that would be gone in a few hours and went about my business. I knew I had to be up early to get to Naples by nine, so I started winding down for bed and talked to my boyfriend a bit. The throat got worse, and at about 10 p.m. I felt like the flames of Satan himself were inside my esophagus. I was absolutely writhing in pain by 11 p.m, and at midnight I knew that I was down for the count.
I got up at about 4 a.m. and walked into the bathroom, praying to God that this would go away by 7 a.m. when I had to actually be up for work. My nose was stuffed, I was breathing out of my mouth (which only hurt my throat more) and I hastily began gargling as much hot water as I could.
I don’t know why I thought that would work. Maybe burn the bacteria out?
I don’t know.
I wake up again at 6 a.m. and it felt like the world was coming to an end. My eyes were slightly swollen, my throat felt like I was swallowing glass. Every bone in my body hurt. I did the only thing I thought to do at the time.
I called in sick on my first day.
And not only that, but I called out for the only two days this week I was supposed to work because I didn’t know when I was going to feel better.
This was full blown WWIII happening inside my body.
I’m finally okay enough to lie back and write out this post because one of my only three options is to write, play Crafting Mama on my DSi or watch Pewdiepie on YouTube. Or sleep, but I don’t feel like going unconscious for the time that I could be writing.
Also, because I wanted to share about how I dropped my very first class in my nearly four-and-a-half years of college.
I was in the process of getting myself set up for a little course called Computer Softwear and Technology (GCS 1100). Everyone that I have talked to about this class said that it was one of the easiest courses they have taken, especially because it’s as simple as getting a certification in Microsoft PowerPoint. I’m already pretty good with technology, so I was ready to finish this class in like two weeks max.
When I started logging into the course, I realized that I missed a little introduction post. I did that, then logged into the website that we were going to use for the class called Cengage. After logging in, I realized that the access code for the course –– ACCESS CODE, not even a textbook –– was going to cost $194.75.
To your right, you will see an example of the absolute petrification I exhibited when realizing not only did I not have enough money to even begin to cover that, but also that I missed an ENTIRE WEEK of random assignments I had no idea were due.
Cue “Surprised Patrick” meme.
I let out a slightly-less-than-dignified, “F–k this” and promptly dropped myself from the course. Granted, after checking the academic calendar, I found out that yesterday was the final day to withdrawal from a course. Great timing.
On any note, after the last 24 hours, all I truly want to do is eat a good amount of Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream and maybe have a good cathartic cry.