What I Would Do if I was Sick

Today has not been a good day.

On the surface it had everything going for it. It's a weekend, with no pressing homework. I was supposed to play a game of soccer, go out for dinner, and still have time to go trampolining with my youth group. The day was set up to be one to enjoy.

Unfortunately, it didn't quite turn out that way.

You see, an epidemic of chicken pox has been going around my school lately, and yesterday one of those friends pointed out some spots on my neck. Next thing you know, we discover spots on my back and I start getting headaches. By the time I go to bed that night, I'm convinced that the next day I'll wake up covered in spots. I wasn't even given that luxury.

Instead, I woke up with much the same symptoms. Spots on my back and more mixing with the pimples on my face, a general itch, a mild headache. Of course, we're worried that I have the pox and bang, soccer's canceled, trampolining's cancelled, and I can't go out for dinner. My day was rather down the drain.

Still, it looked like it might be a good day. It was still the weekend, after all, and I didn't actually feel sick, per say. Slightly run down was all. And yet I did something that I'm ashamed of. I used my possible sickness as an excuse to myself to sit in bed all day, playing games. No writing was done. Little reading was completed. Today, I sat and did nothing. 

And so I find myself sitting here tonight, frustrated and ashamed, hoping that my body would just freaking decide whether I'm actually sick. I'm also ticked at the world for making me miss my soccer game, and at the opposing team in said game. My potentially concussed friend texted me today notifying me that, although we won, he took a knee to the head and our team's best goalkeeper went to the hospital with his leg twisted the wrong way round. Two people who didn't deserve to get hurt did get hurt, leaving me wishing that I'd been there to A) kick the ball out of our zone so that the other team didn't have the chance to hurt my friends or, B) been there to punch out whoever hurt our guys. Both of the people who got hurt are nice people who try hard on the pitch, and I'm pissed that they're out. There, I said it.

So that is how I stand at 11:43 PM tonight. Frustrated. Tired. Upset. Ashamed. Raging-hormonesy, perhaps. 

All I feel I can do now is sleep it off and hope that I either can make it to the soccer game tomorrow or at least feel sick enough to warrant me not going. Just hurry up and make up your mind, pox! You coming to get me or not? Huh?

God, I feel so much like those amateur video bloggers on Youtube who gripe their whole video about whatever problem they have in they're lives. I apologize for that, as I know from experience that hearing about these things is no fun to read. I'll make a more upbeat post tomorrow, I promise. Until then, thanks for letting me vent at you, Russian Robot.

Thanks for reading,

-Mark