Illness. I hate it. That bone-tiredness, the sudden sharp feelings of pain in my head, and most of all, the lack of clear-headedness. This is what I get for being outside when Kansas's temperature plummets. Yesterday I was out wandering around when I should have been inside, drinking warm drinks and socializing. But no, I had to be the lone wolf and gallivanting around the city to desperately seek amusement I knew I wouldn't find. How childish of me.

This week has already been getting eaten up with all that annoying personal life BS that's been going on, and now I have to take a day of to recuperate. Curse you, frozen disease-air of Lansing.

I was almost dismissed from school for a great deal of sneezing and a general disconnection from attention. That and I'm obviously ill. I would have stayed home, but my presence of mind is somewhat lacking when I wake up hacking and coughing with a tremendous headache, that and finals.

Isolation for me, at least for a few hours. I'll have the computer and the accursed phone if you really need me. I'll hole up in my room, and start trying to find something to read, and then fall over abruptly and pass out on the floor. Whatever this infection is, it has left me totally messed up and is probably going to require massive amounts of drugs. Anyone who gives me grief about my previous dedication to keeping myself free of narcotics will be slapped.

I need to recalibrate my immune system. Get my act together. Get revitalized. And then come back to quality blogging and write the living daylights out of that despair machine of a webjournal (I'm playing with something after the obvious return triumphant buffer entry, and it's rather clever) and get my old groove on.

Or, I will die alone in my room alone and unloved and unmourned, from a secret biological weapon slipped into my Red Bull by one of my asshole friends (ha ha, we all know I don't have friends, I mean, I'm me, for God's sake) or various wannabe nemesis candidates.

I'm yet to see anyone worthy of being my nemesis, but, someday. Gotta dream that dream. Someday I, the great Evil Internet Murder Lord will have my obliged antithetical counterpart, instead of a bunch of sanctimonious peons who like to play like they're mean and metal like me.

Pfft.

If I live, I'll report again later.

- the sickly villainy of ms. grace