It was only a matter of time until I got sick again.
I was just hoping to put it off for a few more weeks... let me get the holiday crazy out of the way.
But I've been burnt out for the last three months, between work and overtime and standby and school and tests and papers and finals and bodhi and hard decisions and life plans suddenly being dashed to the ground.

Did you know that plans can smash into a million tiny pieces and gluing them back together isn't an option because the pieces are just that tiny. You stand there looking at the floor, aghast , slightly panicked and mostly devastated. You take the bigger shards and try to salvage them but really, without the all the pieces it just doesn't work.

Between the frantic scrabbling as I try to figure out what path my life is now going to take for the next six months, the increasing bouts of darkness and depression that I'm fighting valiantly, and all the holiday plans/friends/events that refuse to wait despite my moods resembling a s storm.

What I need is a vacation. A small break away from reality. What I get instead is a head cold and scratchy throat.

It's like I pissed off life and now she's being all passive aggressive on my ass.