Sick Day!!!!!

I do realize that exclamation points do not generally follow words so glum as "sick" and "day," especially when used by my health-preferring, nocturnal self. It was intended to throw you off, or perhaps to give you a sense of forced gaiety. Whatever happened in your mind when you read the title, (which will have some bearing in my post, I promise) sick days are a remarkably un-fun experience. Especially when you're public-schooled. You have to roll out of bed at un-earthly hours, make yourself look as presentable as you possibly can when you have absolutely no desire to do so, then go and do things with people for an entire day. (public-schoolers, help me out with this one. I have no experience in the public school world)

I'm homeschooled. I stay home with the people who have already seen me at my worst and probably don't remember ever seeing me at my best. ("best," in this case, refers to a non-existent state of appearance) I do cruddy algebra in the privacy of my own bedroom. I emerge out of the privacy of my own bedroom to run upstairs and get my dad, the resident algebra genius, to stop saving the world and help me with said cruddy algebra. I live in an eternal state of bliss in which nothing could be better.

UNTIL........


*pause for effect*



SICK DAYS!!!!!
Not fun, people. Not. Fun. Good feeling? GONE.
Guys, I got sick on the 9th. For those of you who think it's too close to the weekend to do any sort of math, that's thirteen (13!) days. And it has steadily grown worse. I say that because from the gathered testimonies of my family and friends, this is true. I, on the other hand, have no recollection of the past almost two weeks. Except last Saturday I spent the afternoon with Caitlyn and it was glorious. We succeeded in writing exactly 753 words in a three-hour period. If you don't think that's remarkable, well, then, yer thinker's dun broke.
But everything before and after those three hours has been wiped from my grey matter. Almost, I mean. I perfectly remember the purple elephant that just left our house to begin the Great Quest for the Lost Citadel of Quilt-making.

I am so sick.
It's the kind of sick that makes the Common Cold look, well, common. I was bent on finishing the classic I was reading last night after watching the Adventures of Tintin for the 7,000,000,000,000 time. I opened it up, and discovered that the words ran across the page in an odd and nonsensical way. Out goes the classic.
I now was on the search for something fresh, something new, something exciting. Something that didn't require mental power in any way. Something that lived up to the great name of Amusement.

Oh yeah. It's time for a Phineas and Ferb marathon.
I am not joking in the slightest. Nor am I embarrassed by that fact that I find Phineas and Ferb amazing, creative, and imaginative. Remember the title sequence? Dodo birds, guys.
So that's what I did with my afternoon. But I did do algebra this morning, so it's all good. Math first, science later.

In other less recent news, Lorelei is  being obstinate and unfeeling. The chaptering is slow. I'm still getting the hang of this writing thing that everyone's talking about. But I am in no way admitting defeat, oh no! It.... It just might be a while. That's cool, right?? Cool.

To show your worry for my awful condition, I would appreciate it if you would all buy me this shirt. I'm counting on getting enough of them to wear them every day of the week without washing.

 

 

 

 

 

~Margaret