Oh, I am so sick. So, so, so sick that I can't get out of my bed since two days. It's the usual cold/headache/sore throat/fever but trust me it's not that usual as it seems.

I am thinking of all the classes that I'm missing, the deadlines that I'm skipping, the tasty meals that I'm ditching, the precious moments that I'm wasting, the workouts that I'm avoiding; I'm thinking of all the meetings that I'm ignoring, the cute guys that I'm not seeing, the experiments that I'm not performing, the kids that I'm not teaching, the talks that I'm not having; I am thinking of all the pain that I'm suffering, the pills that I'm devouring, the salty water that I'm gargling, the layers of comforters that I'm wearing as I lay dying but most of all, I'm thinking about the stories that I'm plotting.