Last Thursday on my train home from work, this woman got on about halfway through, sat in the row behind me, and proceeded to cough and sneeze and splutter into an obviously inadequate kleenex the entire way home. I knew in my bones at the time that I would be struck down with whatever plague she was carrying, and wouldn’t ya knowit, I’ve spent the better part of the last four days literally (figuratively) dying. I’ve gone through over 20 of those little travel tissue packs and two boxes, and I feel worse today than I did all weekend.

There is no hope for me, no light at the end of this dreadful tunnel we call “the flu”. Carry on GT, seize the day and sing the sweet sweet songs you’ve always sung - all I ask is that you remember me as the bright, happy girl I once was, not the gross, snotty, red-nosed monster I am now.

(In the event that I’m being melodramatic and somehow survive this illness, please disregard the above pity-party)