Death becomes her

So, I'm dying. Or rather, I have a cold or a flu or perhaps it is a hybrid. It started the day I wrote my last post. I woke up that morning with an odd feeling in my throat (I know what you're thinking but this is not a "that's what she said" moment, though props for thinking it *high five*). My throat wasn't sore but it didn't feel right. I knew all of that day that I would wake up the next morning without a voice and feeling exhausted. It's a dreadful thing knowing that you are probably going to be sick and miserable for a week. No matter how much Vitamin C I had I knew there was no stopping it. I was just going to have to wait it out. I wake up every morning and drink tea and eat a bowl of oatmeal. It helps the symptoms but not the mentality.

Be amazed by my MS Paint drawing skills. I call this one" BAMF with a cold."

As you've probably gathered from my last post I think a little bit too much about what-ifs. If I didn't think about zombies and demons it would probably be about bombs and explosions. Somehow zombies seem more comforting, at least I can hide or defend myself. However, when I'm sick, there is no comfort. As I'm lying there, muscles sore for no apparent reason, struggling to breath, annoyed that I have to pee for the third time in what seems like only an hour, I know I am in no shape to defend myself. Even if I were to hide, the coughing and sneezing would most likely give me away. And if the zombie epidemic begins from a virus then I might be mistaken for a zombie which could never end well. You never really see the badass heroes take down zombies while under a massive cold or flu virus themselves. They could be missing a limb or just recovering from surgery but you don't see them fighting off zombies while trying to stop sneezing. Maybe that's how they ended up with a missing limb.

Too sick to care or too sick to be scared?

Of course, dealing with a demon or ghost would just be annoying. When I'm sick my dreams are amplified and vivid. I might as well be hallucinating for all I can tell what is real. I think I hear voices as I'm going to sleep or waking up. If I weren't dying I'd be nervous and most likely creeped out. When I'm sick I just cough at it and mumble "Go away." It's incredible how what could be interpreted as brave or fearless is really just sick and grumpy. And with that I leave you so I can find some more tissues.