I am sick and it is fucking with my thoughts. I've got a chest cold (is that the same thing as bronchitis? I dunno, I never go to the doctor anymore), I'm losing my voice, and I have a weird itchy and painful rash that started on my arm, and was told by several people that it looked like shingles, it was acting just like shingles, but is now on both arms, hands, and is creeping up my goddamn neck and I am convinced my body has just decided to slowly self-destruct. I am at work, giving less of a shit than normal. Pretty much zero shit. If I were to stay home, I would still have to deal with being alive, but without the perk of being paid for it, so I decided not to call in sick. I'm hoping that I'm contagious.
Guess what? I'm going to bitch about everything, so if you don't want to hear it, quit reading and fuck off. It's that Everything Is Shit time of year. Out come all of the Christmas decorations and my full-blown depression. Traffic, greed, shitty weather, packed stores, religious nonsense, annoying commercials, bad movies, and Elf on the Goddamn Shelf. Somewhere deep down, I do like Christmas...in my own way. I just don't feel like digging that deep at the moment. Fuck It.
