Death Becomes Her

*beebably doobibly boop boop* (I have one of those space aged "touch tone" landline phones now)

"Nope"

*beeeeep bababibleebabidy beeep beeep*

"Ugggggh. I'm fucking dyyyyying"

*beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-

"WHAT?! H.E.L.L.O. What?"

"Alexis, what's for dinner?"

"Dude, are you fucking KIDDING me??????"

"......uhh"

It was at that point when I just wanted to nosedive right off my couch into... (what are those stupid things... I cant even think, I'm still too sick... uhhhhhhh... you know, the THINGS... oh boy...)

Let's start over.  I got sick on Sunday by doing a good deed and making a pilgrimage to the Dyckman part of Manhattan. For anyone who is not familiar with that further-than-Neptune neighborhood, it was about 20 goddamn stops on the subway, 3 fucking train transfers and oh yeah, my personal favorite, a bum decided to panhandle on the car that I was seated in.  Apparently, when he finished his "Feed me because I am too crazy to get a job" routine, he found an AWESOME seat to wait out our next 75 block span of transit- right in front of ME.  Not right in front of me, like, as in 'on the other side of the train', you know, how "normal" people sit down. I shit you not, this guy sat Indian Style (is that un-PC now? I'm not sure...) right at my feet ...and began to meditate. Ironically, I was at the moment reading a Complete Guide To Survival book that caught my fancy a few months back.

                                

Never in a million years would I have thought that that book, which covered REAL life saving techniques, would mean less to me than scrap paper that I would later wipe my ass with.
Tiger attack? *Check.
Falling down a cliff? *Check.
Zombie apocalypse? Un-neccessary seeing as though I WILL survive based on instincts and sheer thirst for blood.
Homeless individual meditating at your feet?
....

Nowhere in that 'lifesaving' manual did it cover this situation that I now faced. What was I to do? Shower him with coins? Escort him to the nearest homeless shelter? Move seats? Not even close. I did what anyone else would have done in that situation. Not a goddamn thing. I had other things on my mind. Plus, not for nothing, but this bum used to panhandle in my old neighborhood and that was almost 5 years ago. He's no spring chicken, in which case, he should have gotten it together by now. Anyhow, the reason for my voyage was to bring food to my brother, who had been sick for a few days. Not once in that entire trek did I think that my brother, the notorious 'cough in midair without covering his fucking mouth' asshole, would have gotten me sooooo sick. Like seriously, I'm dying over here.

I spent the last three days in and out of sleep. My out of sleep moments ranged based on when SSL (which has been permanently demoted to MR 'my roommate') was at work. While awake, I have been dizzy, lightheaded, coughing and a bunch of other shit, but not that 'shit', because it just so happens that this particular cold forbids your body to do so. Get what I'm saying? Good.

I could go on for months and months about how MR failed me this time around. While he continuously replenished my vitamins with organic fruit shakes, obviously he also thought that I was some fucking 1988 cyborge that when jostled around would return to normal function. Am I gonna cook dinner? On what fucking planet does one cook while exhaling a myriad of infectious germs? What asshole would do such a thing? 'Hey! Why don't I make a scrumptious plate of food for you to devour tonite, only to be as sick as death tomorrow morning!" Seriously...

Times like this make me miss living with my parents. Being sick was never too bad when I had them around to take care of me. Someone was there to hold my hair while I puked, hold the tissue while I blew my nose, and cook me food. Now when I get sick as an adult, I am left for dead in my own home because aside from my brother (the asshole who caused this to begin with), none of my immediate family lives anywhere near me. Also, as previously noted, I'm expe- SINKHOLE! Forget what I was just saying. Forget EVERYTHING. That's what I'd love to nosedive into right now.

A fucking SINKHOLE...

SICK STATS 2014 (since becoming ill):

Number of cigarettes smoked: 0

Number of shits taken: 0

Number of times I brushed my teeth or brushed my hair: 0

Number of fucks given: 0