Student Research Week is coming up at my school, and my professor chose me (and a handful of others) to present some creative fiction or nonfiction pieces we have done. I offered to represent my humor writing course by presenting my final piece that I submitted at the end of the quarter. It was something that I slaved over and produced ten pages that I was fondly attached to. Imagine my surprise when she said that we have to shrink it to 5 pages. That's half of what I wrote!
I am not afraid of such a challenge, because I feel as though I can tighten my piece. I just feel as though I won't be able to include as much as I initially planned. I loved talking about my family and how their constant strain they put me through when they come over and I have mountains of homework that I have put off until the very last day (kind of like now how I have a Milton piece due and two books and so much work to organize etc).
This is something that I am just adding to the mountain pile. If only I had the heart to get a matchbox and light the sucker with fuel and watch it burn like the Joker. Unfortunately, I care. And this is something that I am looking forward to and hope to leave a dazzling impression on the group of people that go to hear me talk about the horrible virus that is sniffles.
Showing posts with label sick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sick. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Coughing and Sneezing
Sneezing and coughing.
Not a pretty sight at all if you ask me. The snot is seductively approaching your bottom lip and you forcibly wipe it away hoping it gets the memo. It doesn't as it playfully tries to follow the same path the previous boogers before it. They aren't so quick to surrender.
So you do the next best thing, take in a deep breath. As you do so, your lungs inhale with the sounds of a motorbike trying to come to life but lifelessly returning into pockets that are shaped in your nose.
The coughs that come out are not pretty either. You brace yourself to cover the shame with your hands, and desperately reach for the antibacterial green hand sanitizer that is conveniently sitting on your desk.
Use me, it says. You're all germy until you use me.
One pump later and you brace yourself for the next cough.
Only this time, the cough turns into a hack. Not a hack like the internet is so fond of. The type of hack where the sounds escaping from your esophagus actually turn up with a prize. A prize that is clear and gooey like the hand sanitizer or a light green silly putty.
You need this. You need it out of your system. That's the only way to get better.
You pop pills that are over the counter, wait for it to take effect, then wait another 4-6 hours for the next dosage. You want to say to yourself, I am not sick, it's just a little cold. But then your body hits you with a strong sneeze.
It's one of those sneezes that you need to control if you are in public. Not so much if you are alone in your room with your chicken soup and bunched up Kleenex tissues. When that sneeze hits you, your whole body convulses as your eyes close tightly and your head lunges forward. The debris of the sneeze is evident as you open your eyes and see the tiny specks of bacteria infesting the air. It's those types of sneezes that you have to watch out for in public, or else they will infect the rest of those around you.
You swallow the warm gunk back into your body instead of releasing it onto a tissue space that is conveniently lurking behind the desk phone. It's not on your desk, and the little packet of tissues that your mom gave you to stuff in your backpack was clumsily left at home. You regret not packing it.
Curse your constant bickering with yourself that you are not sick. You are.
And yet you are still in denial.
Because you believe the science that it is all mental rather than physical.
And your bones are obviously telling you it is physical.
Not a pretty sight at all if you ask me. The snot is seductively approaching your bottom lip and you forcibly wipe it away hoping it gets the memo. It doesn't as it playfully tries to follow the same path the previous boogers before it. They aren't so quick to surrender.
So you do the next best thing, take in a deep breath. As you do so, your lungs inhale with the sounds of a motorbike trying to come to life but lifelessly returning into pockets that are shaped in your nose.
The coughs that come out are not pretty either. You brace yourself to cover the shame with your hands, and desperately reach for the antibacterial green hand sanitizer that is conveniently sitting on your desk.
Use me, it says. You're all germy until you use me.
One pump later and you brace yourself for the next cough.
Only this time, the cough turns into a hack. Not a hack like the internet is so fond of. The type of hack where the sounds escaping from your esophagus actually turn up with a prize. A prize that is clear and gooey like the hand sanitizer or a light green silly putty.
You need this. You need it out of your system. That's the only way to get better.
You pop pills that are over the counter, wait for it to take effect, then wait another 4-6 hours for the next dosage. You want to say to yourself, I am not sick, it's just a little cold. But then your body hits you with a strong sneeze.
It's one of those sneezes that you need to control if you are in public. Not so much if you are alone in your room with your chicken soup and bunched up Kleenex tissues. When that sneeze hits you, your whole body convulses as your eyes close tightly and your head lunges forward. The debris of the sneeze is evident as you open your eyes and see the tiny specks of bacteria infesting the air. It's those types of sneezes that you have to watch out for in public, or else they will infect the rest of those around you.
You swallow the warm gunk back into your body instead of releasing it onto a tissue space that is conveniently lurking behind the desk phone. It's not on your desk, and the little packet of tissues that your mom gave you to stuff in your backpack was clumsily left at home. You regret not packing it.
Curse your constant bickering with yourself that you are not sick. You are.
And yet you are still in denial.
Because you believe the science that it is all mental rather than physical.
And your bones are obviously telling you it is physical.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Fighting Sickness
It's the last seven minutes before I am done with work. I just thought I would discuss my theories of battling sickness.
It comes to me because I am battling a little war myself with a sore throat and apparently another headache. What I have come to learn is that to be sick is a battle of wills.
If you tell yourself that you are not sick, you will be fine. You will carry on your day like you would any other day that you are not sick.
If, however, your attitude is sour, and you don't feel like you will be the victor by the time rolls around to when you have to apply yourself, you will lose everything.
Not everything like your house and stuff. I mean your mentality, your healthy glow that is gilded within a coat of bacteria infested corpse.
I am telling myself to this point that I am not sick. That the sore throat I am experiencing is just a nuisance. Nothing can put me to bed right now.
I have midterms to worry about, to keep me from caring much about a sickness.
It comes to me because I am battling a little war myself with a sore throat and apparently another headache. What I have come to learn is that to be sick is a battle of wills.
If you tell yourself that you are not sick, you will be fine. You will carry on your day like you would any other day that you are not sick.
If, however, your attitude is sour, and you don't feel like you will be the victor by the time rolls around to when you have to apply yourself, you will lose everything.
Not everything like your house and stuff. I mean your mentality, your healthy glow that is gilded within a coat of bacteria infested corpse.
I am telling myself to this point that I am not sick. That the sore throat I am experiencing is just a nuisance. Nothing can put me to bed right now.
I have midterms to worry about, to keep me from caring much about a sickness.
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