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tea or tequila
When I told my mom, last year, that I was thinking about going to grad school in the States, she famously responded with, "You can't move there! It's dangerous! They start wars!" At the time I thought this was hilarious, and possibly the funniest thing my mother had ever said, but now I am reconsidering her point of view. I've never thought really seriously about what it would be like to live there for an extended period of time (and getting a Ph.D. is not a snap) and I definitely take for granted how good I've got it here, with the medicare and the marijuana and the gay marriage and the over-the-counter morning after pill and the really cheap public education and daycare and the separation of church and state. I haven't been able to concentrate on writing my Statement of Purpose at all today.
Also, I am still sick, and I am sick of it. I am not even interested in curing myself anymore, I just want to lie around and wallow in misery and worry about the appointment of american supreme court justices. I have lost my appetite and run out of nyquil and either I have a fever or it is freezing cold in my apartment, I really can't tell which. There is something in my lungs and it hurts to swallow, but this is starting to feel normal.
Three weeks from today I am flying to New Orleans and I can't even get excited about that either despite the way everyone keeps bringing it up. I did make a calendar/list of things I have to do before then, on a weekly basis. I am already behind on week 1. Curling up into a ball and whimpering is not on the list but maybe I will add it so that at the end of the day I can cross it off and feel a sense of accomplishment.
I will probably not show up for work at all this week, which means I won't get paid, which is also lovely, but not really at the top of my list of concerns at this very moment. I am more interested in which drink will be most effective for numbing the pain in my throat -- and in my brain. Oho! It rhymes!
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