AMY MERTNEY

It's a day before my birthday and I am phlegm personified. My throat burns and my body is achingly heavy that I can't leave my bed. I haven't been sick in the longest time and now that I am sick, I still feel the same about being sick - I hate it. Every time I get sick, I vow to be healthier so I'll never ever get sick again.

I passionately hate the physical pain. I hate how I am forced to be useless and unproductive. I hate how as much as I wanna do things, I can't because my body doesn't want to cooperate.

So I guess I'll just be busy catching some Z's and popping in pills today and if they don't work, I'll have to spend my birthday tomorrow in bed.

Which is not a bad idea, come to think of it, as long as I have my Honeybun by my side. I don't need anybody else. I don't need to go to any restaurant and order expensive food and be greeted by the waiters complete with a free cupcake. I don't need to do anything different or grandiose just for my birthday to be memorable.


I'm pretty sure tomorrow will be a blast, with or without a birthday cake.

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