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5:36 p.m. - October 25, 2001 Because this is a weekend where it's really, really, really unnecessary, not to mention incredibly annoying, to be sick. Tomorrow I'm supposed to go see Flogging Molly and the Bouncing Souls at the Metro with a whole bunch of people. I am way overdue for a Metro visit. Plus, I'm people's chauffeur. Saturday is the costume party of whose virtues I have been extolling for the past three weeks ('please come, please please please' sound familiar?) And today, after a few days of still being able to walk around and go to school despite a grumbly stomach and a slight headache, it finally hit me. In the middle of anatomy. Mouth yuck, throat yuck, huge aching tonsils, a stomachache, a splitting headache, and nasty vertigo. I stumbled to the nurse's office, stumbled to my car, and swerved home. Immediately upon arrival, I collapsed in bed and slept for four hours. I woke up feeling worse. Why does God hate me? Well, maybe because I don't believe in Him. Bad example. Why do the cosmos hate me? Because I have bad karma following me around from past crap. WHY ISN'T THE KARMA DONE YET? Or I could just be sick and karma has nothing to do with it, but you must forgive me because my fever is interfering with my ability to think, type, and otherwise be productive and GOD PLEASE PLEASE MAKE ME BETTER BY TOMORROW! Oh, please. I have not been looking forward to this weekend so I could lie in bed and mope. This is my fever, guys; I just pictured God up in the sky on His cloud couch going, 'Golly gee Hannah (because He of course can't use His own name in vain), I'm sorry, I totally forgot this weekend was your entire social life crammed in there... how about next weekend, will you be all right with having the nasty flu then?' And me saying back, 'fine, Fine, FINE, make me sick ANY OTHER TIME THAN RIGHT NOW'. And so He does, and so I'm healing. He's undoing my sickness. Right? Right. My headache is leaving me. My throat feels fine. My stomach is calm and pretty waters. Except it isn't. Somebody do something. Can I eat some emergency miracle food that will make me all better? Of course, babbling about God on couches isn't helping, so that might as well help. I have paint on my clothes from second period. I am making an effort to type normally and say normal things. My African mask is purple and burgundy. I just submitted this diary for an interview, and they're going to read this crap. Ooh, do you know, when you've got a fever, you can see your internal make-up right through the skin of your hands? I remember having a fever once of 103 when I was maybe eleven, and at my grandparents' house, lying in bed and wailing for my mommy to come get me, but she had left to drive my cousin home. I yelled and whined for two hours, but my grandparents, in the next room, have such bad hearing they didn't hear a thing. And when my mom came home and I told her, 'Grandma never came', she said 'Oh, good, your whining would have worried her.' And I was so ticked off at that that I slept in her bed, making her sick in the process, so she was sick in the plane on the way home. I remember the strangest things.
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