Ok. Profs all e-mailed. Tutoring appointment rescheduled. Fever back.
I love my life. Really.
'Just Rewards (2)'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Ok. Profs all e-mailed. Tutoring appointment rescheduled. Fever back.
I love my life. Really.
((vw))
My advice when you talk to your profs (the ones you have classes with) is not to say "I've been sick" or "I am sick" but "I have mono, RSV, and pnemonia and have been under a doctor's care since " and go from there.
Sick is kind of vague and you want to be clear and lay out what's been going on straight away.
Have you been contagious at all because if the doctor said you were I'd play up that part as well. You stayed out under doctors orders AND to avoid infecting anyone else.
If I heard "I've been sick" I would think it was something like the flu and not a trifecta of illnesses like you are dealing with.
"Also, I can kill you with my brain."
"...and, at the moment, my lungs!!"
You know, this is terrible, but I had a sort-of confrontation with one of my neighbors a couple days ago (he's convinced I don't clean up after Toto, which, well, I'm sick of arguing about). I ended up walking a way while he was still yelling at me, but I really wanted walk up into is face and say, "You know, I could BREATHE on you and make you sick for weeks."
it's not too late, vw. Go cough in his mailbox.
Go team germ warfare! t cough
So, I did my author project on Mo Willems, and I wrote it as though the pigeon was writing it. We had to do summaries for three books. THis is the what pigeon wrote for "Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus."
The one! The only! The original! A tale of oppression and pigeon-ism, this harrowing tale tells of a bird with a dream of driving the bus. A pigeon on a mission, he does everything to try to get you to let him drive the bus, but to no avail. The cards are just stacked against him too high. The pigeon accepts his fate (for now) and decides to daydream about driving a semi-truck. (This book made me a celebrity and should be read every day.)
that's awesome Aimee. Now I need to read the book again.
I do not love mine. Well, as the man says, "This ain't Aruba, bitch." But I wish I could erase my dad, download a heart and put him back together again. Since that's all he's offering me with my computer problem. No wonder he fears dying...hell will do that. I should just call Stepmonster and tell her that I know all about her Super-Sekrit Stomach Staple, and the fact that he cracks up laughing and says she'd be fine if she lost another hundred pounds. Then she'll kill him. Then I can get a P.C. out of the estate and have cake. Which she won't have in the lockup for the criminally insane.