I have a cold. No, it's not an excuse as to why I haven't been updating as often as I should, and now that I think about it, it might not be a cold so much as an allergy or the result of poor sleeping habits and smoke inhalation (it's a wonder I haven't keeled over yet). Either way, I am now the proud owner of red-rimmed eyes and a nose that runs like an Olympic athlete. Every now and then, I go into impressive sneezing fits that leave me reeling and unable to decide between collapsing where I am or running to the nearest box of tissues to mop up my nose.

It's not like I can say I didn't see it coming: the first sniffles started weeks ago while I was revising for my finals, and I tried to ignore them. I was a busy person, after all, I had my exams to worry about, and once those were over I had to go about celebrating both their end and my birthday in style. But did my sinuses care? Oh no. They just clogged up like nobody's business and left me exhausting my supply of Kleenix and eyeing the toilet paper as a substitue when the former ran out (Note to self: buy more tissues, and generic toilet paper is the absolute worst way to go, no matter what you may use it for).

Currently, tissues are scattered around me as a garnish to the clutter in my room (by the by, Gerald McStackerson has been banished to a trolley bag under my bed, where he lives a quiet life of collecting dust and painting watercolours), and because I stubbornly refuse to take any medication unless absolutely necessary, I am trying to cure myself by getting lots of sleep and drinking liquids. Sure, it's easy for me to stick by a somewhat natural approach to sickness when I'm healthy, but right now all I want to do is shovel pills down my throat until my nose stops its impersonation of a faucet and I can get out of bed without wanting to crawl right back under the blanket and hack up a lung.

All right, fine, it's not that bad. It's just a case of the sniffles, not the Swine Flu or the Black Plague. I'm not dying, but I will be hiding out in my bed reading all the books I bought at the Big Bad Wolf book sale, and I was healthy enough to be throughly embarassed last night. Twice. (Thanks everyone. I love you all. Really, I do. Just remember that I know where you all sleep next time you try pull this on me again.)
I'll probably be back to my moody, emo, weird state in a few days. Cause to celebrate? Fuck yeah.