#dayeightyone

Turns out I have a chest infection. It’s probably just bronchitis. The doctor tried, but he didn’t speak a whole lot of English, haha.

I ended up staying at the hospital for ages because I had to do effusion therapy. For those who don’t know, effusion therapy is just a fancy way of saying that your medicine was administered to you intravenously through an IV drip. The medicine gets absorbed into your bloodstream quicker this way than if you take it orally.

After that, I went home, ordered mutton soup for lunch and took a nap. Then I did some online grocery shopping before tackling my lesson plans for my open classes next week. I needed my textbooks too, but I can just look at them on Monday.

My thought get really depressing when I’m sick. So I found myself feeling blue about all kinds of nonsense like work stuff, finding a new job and even X for a brief moment.

I guess this chest infection reminds me of when I got bronchitis while visiting X in her hometown a year ago. X had to work the whole time I was visiting, but we managed to carve out time in-between. I stayed in X’s family home and we slept in her tiny bed together every single night for two weeks. In its own weird way, it was sort of perfect.

But being to being sick a year ago. I got laryngitis too and could barely speak for a whole week. X found that strangely irresistible and kept kissing me every time I spoke in my croaky-Kermit-The-Frog-half-whisper.

I’m surprised she didn’t care about getting sick.

Thinking about those memories makes me miss X a little. But mostly, I just wonder if I’ll ever find that with someone in the future.

Someone who will take care of me when I’m sick and just, I don’t know, be there go keep me company.

I’m getting strangely needy in my old age. Maybe just having a tinytaste of what love can feel like already makes me nostalgic.

Urgh, enough of this emo crap. I have to go do more effusion treatment tomorrow. Hopefully I can just rest and recuperate this weekend.

Parent-Teacher Conferences are next week too, oh joy. How do I stop myself from saying things like ‘Your son/daughter is a royal shit in class and if I had my way, I’d hang him/her out of a second storey classroom window to teach them a lesson?’

Just kidding, it won’t be that bad.

But it won’t be that great either.

At least my medicine is helping me a lot already.

I’ll be back to my healthy, jaded and sarcastic self in no time at all.