The Illest Mother*!@#er From Here To Gardenia

Being sick in the summer sucks.
I haven't actually tasted a meal in over a week.
What's the point of eating?

There's about four other people in my office that are sick. The girl who started this all is feeling better now. Screw her. One co-worker is on serious anti-biotics and will probably get better before me. Screw them as well.

There's only enough room for hate in my thoughts right now. All the other space in my head is being occupied by excess mucus.

The other night as I walked to work in a cloud of Acetaminophen and Phenylephrine (aka Tylenol Cold&Flu), I realized that I can pretty much pinpoint when I moved to New York as the moment I stopped enjoying life so much. I don't know why, cuz I still love this city more than any place I've lived. But I've kinda stopped "living" since I've been here. I'm doing things I've always wanted to do and making progress in different areas, but it all feels so mechanical and empty. I'm only half here. My soul's moved elsewhere and I can't find it.

This is the funk I find myself in.
Being sick in the summer sucks.