Sef Indulgent Sickly Blog...

So as soon as I got to work yesterday, my guts twisted seven ways to Sunday, and I wanted nothing so much as to go home.

Right then.

But I had to hang on, clutching my gut and snapping at my students for the three hours or so my presence there was truly necessary.

Its funny how time stretches out when you're feeling poorly. Those three hours seemed to last ten, the bus home (counting the time spent doubled over in a public restroom) seemed to last a day.

But really, I was home by about 2.

There was an eternity between 2 and 6 when I rolled uneasily to and fro on Embla's couch, holding my distended guts and trying very hard not to think about food.

The only time that flew was from 6 until 7 the next morning. 13 hours of sleep went past without my really noticing. But getting up to go to work was just not happening (teaching being one of those jobs that hard to do when one is running for the john every couple of minutes) and the bed sucked me back in until 1.

Since then I've lounged about, feeling sorry for myself as the hours crawl by with asinine slowness.

There's something about being ill that makes all the facades one builds up to make life better come crashing down.

So my stomach aches, my throat is raw, my head is pounding, and I'm stuck with the realization that I have no idea what I'm doing with my life.

I don't want to do much of anything. I'm in debt, homesick (yet unable to go home anytime soon), basically homeless (unless I can get well and fix the place up in record time).

I'm lonely. The cadre of friends that I've spent most of my time with are mostly abroad. The cadre of "friends" I once spent most of my time with are the reason I've been living out of a suitcase for the last months.

My love life is confusing at best, a mix-mash of flirtation that can't go anywhere and long-distance desire that would require a miracle to consummate.

My job, a position that I sought for so long only to have thrust into my hands, is depressing me. I've found myself yelling and punishing kids lately, as I unwittingly and unwilling slip into the role that system demands of me.

I don't know what to do.

This scares me. When I know what I want to do, when I have a plan and a goal and mission, I'm happy, productive, good. When I get like this and I don't have any of those things, bad things have happened to me.

And I will not let that happen.

And I know its pathetic to whine about this stuff on the 'net. I know its kinda lame.

But hey, I'm sick.

Humor me.