Angry Musings from a Sniffling Drama Queen
100 Words for 100 Days — Day 9
I’m angry. I’m so unbelievably angry right now. Being sick is a different level of hell. My ears are blocked. My bones feel like jelly. I just want to let out a heinous shriek of frustration, but even my own voice has betrayed me as a result of a sore throat.
In another world, perhaps I am graceful at hiding my frustration, not letting my emotions jump to my face immediately.
Unfortunately, in this world, I am nowhere near graceful nor emotionally adept. I’m pissed and brooding. My nose is red, dry, and sore. I’m in mismatched sweats, a long-sleeves shirt with a haldi stain on it, and I don’t remember the last time I combed my hair. Remnants of phlegm tickle the inside of my chest, and I swallow, absolutely revolted at myself.
I want to muster the energy to storm angrily around my room, maybe even kick the closest object lying on the floor. I want to scream and flap my arms hysterically, as objects crash to the ground violently. I want to collapse on the bed, howling, while attempting to punch my pillows into smithereens.
I am a dramatic cookie.
And unfortunately for me, I am a sick, sniffling, dramatic cookie, who is stuck in bed, clearly unable to muster any energy whatsoever.
I glance up from the edge of my bed and stare at the full length mirror across the room. I’m very clearly breathing with my mouth ajar, staring at a demonic resemblance of myself. Ouch.
Please, dear God, let this infection pass soon. I am a mess.