I’m fucking kidding.
I’m feeling really good about myself this morning. I went to bed at approximately 1:30 a.m., but not before watching two back-to-back episodes of Intervention and playing several consecutive games of Scrabble against my phone in the comfort of my fluffy bed. Since I don’t have class until 3:30 on Tuesdays, I leisurely set my alarm for 12:30. After waking up at 10:46 a.m. having to pee like Seabiscuit, I was compelled to squeeze in another quick round of Scrabble before hitting the hay again until well past noon. One game turned into four, and now I’ve decided to get up. I MIGHT even shower.
Actually, showering isn’t even an option at this point; it’s mandatory. I haven’t bathed since Friday afternoon. My hair is greasier than a quarter pounder with cheese, and my body is itching like a crack addict in withdrawal. Then again, a little staph infection never hurt anyone. Except for the thousands of people it kills annually.
You live, you learn.
My slacking has reached an all-time high. It’s horrible. My parents are not going to be thrilled with my performance this semester. Somehow I manage to eek by, but it’s not going to be pretty. I have two tests next week and a paper due tomorrow that I haven’t even started. Tonight will be a busy one. In other news, my dick-drawing bender is still in full force. The ideas just keep coming. I need to start making money for these works of art. Show me the coin, media.
This weekend was a fun one. Dane showed up by surprise late on Friday night after my roomies and I were already shitboned at a keg. I made friends with a girl from Switzerland whose first language was German, second language was French, and third language was English, which she spoke almost perfectly. She taught me how to say “I’ll drink to that!” which sounds like, “Drink uff de tote!” I was thrilled, but forgot how to say it every single time because of how hammed I was.
Saturday we convinced Zach to get his ass up and into the 52242. After some pre-graming, the team headed to a keg down the street where I proceeded to steal everyone cups and avoid getting my ass beat doing so. Then Kehly and I played a few rounds of flippy cup, and a gentleman helped me cheat the whole time, which was nice. Then Dane got too drunk and Zach had to ice skate him home. Kehly and I fell hardcore on the sidewalk in a race to see who could get to the building first to make Pizza Bursts. Yeeaaap. I’m wounded. It’s fine.
Other landmark events in my life: I have begun to give plasma, and I am very proud. I am terrified of needles in case you didn’t know. I cry like a little baby when my dad gives me flu or hepatitis shots, and my mom has to hold my hand like a four year old crossing the street. It’s embarrassing; I can’t help it. ANYwho, Kehly and I had to face the fact that our accounts were dwindling, and decided to hit up BioLife. The entire way there, I was expressing how terrified I was, and Kehly was trying to convince me that needles weren’t that big of a deal, and explaining how they didn’t bother her as long as she is lying down.
Kehly is about fifteen minutes ahead of me in the process, about to get her finger pricked, while I’m filling out a questionnaire on the computer about ten feet away. Suddenly, I hear people squealing “KEELY?? KEELY?! Oh my god, Keely!!!” I glance over to see Kehly slumped over on the counter, snoring away. Apparently she couldn’t handle the finger prick and passed out cold, and managed to smack her face on the edge of the counter and split her eye open. It was a nice little bloody raspberry. I quote my mother after texting her that Kehly had fainted:
She opted not to continue with the process, and after a quick time-out in the nurse’s office, left me all by my lonesome to lose my blood alone.
Everything went just fine until about the last ten minutes. Suddenly I became unbearably nauseous. I became panicky and scanned my area for a trash can. My body temperature dropped, and I got terrible chills. Then two seconds later, I got menopausal hot flashes and started sweating like a beast. I flagged someone down and they started pumping saline back into my blood before I yammied all over the place. Fixed me right up, and finished the process shortly afterward. MONEY MONEY MONEY!!!
Of course I gave plasma again yesterday, and about four hours later I removed my bandage and pulled my sweatshirt sleeve back down. Moments later, I felt something dripping down my elbow. I looked back at my arm to see blood soaking through the sleeve. “GOO!” I yank my sleeve up to see my vein swelling up like a snow pea, and blood squirting from it. Apparently I removed my bandage too soon, and now I’m expecting a nasty bruise. yay.
WELL, I’m off to eat my two foot bag of off-brand bagged cereal. I can’t wait.
“SHOOT, THE, BOOT! SHOOT, THE, BOOT!”