Such a wuss

I'm sick. I have a love/hate relationship with illness. I love the fact that I finally have a (in my mind, at least) legitimate reason to stay in bed. I hate the whole achey sniffly sneezy feverish sore throat thing. I'm not a whine-y invalid; like an animal in the wild I tend to withdraw if feeling ill. In this case, to my room with the television. I'm watching and loudly commenting on the new Queer as Folk, most likely wigging out my folks. I'm finding it hard to walk around, but I still can find enough energy to mock the selection of REO Speedwagon's "Can't Fight This Feeling" as the closing song. REO fuckin' Speedwagon. The *hell* is wrong with these people?? You don't even have to watch the show to realize the last three minutes or so were physically painful for me.

Mom cooked up a feast for Father's Day. I met it when I came in from work. Knowing I go through spurts of hyper-healthy eating, she actually made a special rice and lentil dish for me. I was touched, but didn't end up eating a whole lot. Then I felt guilty. At least she didn't press me on the matter.

One more workday until vacation. W00t!!!!1

*sigh*

My hands tend to be full enough dealing with people who hate me for who I am. Concentrate too hard on the millions who hate you for what you are and you're likely to turn into one of the unkempt, sloppy dressers who sag beneath the weight of the two hundred political buttons they wear pinned to their coats and knapsacks.

-David Sedaris, Naked

I read this and it reminded me of how rarely I let something like racism enter my consciousness.

That, and I thought it rocked.