Cough Cough Dead

There's a certain feeling that passes through and invades your body when you are about to get sick. It begins with a sort of cloudiness that fogs and darkens your vision like a thick storm unleashing a torrent of rain and lightning upon your brain. You can't focus, you can't think, and it seems like you could never get enough sleep. Along with this fogginess follows a nagging ache that creeps into every joint of your body and pries into your bones, making you shaky and weak, like every footfall is a great earthquake shaking your system. The pain lingers into your head as your sinuses slowly fill with mucous and snot, pressing against your brain and your face making each nerve under each tooth sting and every hair on your head to burn in agony. Beads of sweat pool on your blood-drained skin and soak into your clothes as your internal climate rises like a slow cooker for your internal organs.

All of these are hardcore warning signs of a cold, or a general sickness. Last week, I didn't feel ANY of these, but now this week I am stuck with this horrible cough, fevers, chills, antibiotics, and an annoying trip to the hospital where I'm asked question like:

"Are things okay at home?"

"Do you do drugs?"

...and, my favorite:

"Have you been around anyone with bedbugs recently?"

"YES! I'M LOUSY WITH BEDBUGS!! GIVE ME A BED!!!"

Someone tell me I'll get better soon...

Why is Ashley not looking at the camera? No one knows.