This should be a blog about having cold feet, or being scared of the unknown and what's to come. About how I'm about to spread my wings and embark on the biggest journey of my life. About how for the first time in my life, I'm going to experience the world without a shock collar. About how I'm going to learn things about myself and how I'm completely scared of who I might turn out to be.
In a parallel universe where I didn't contract mono, it probably would be.
But it's not.
It's mono-world. In this world I find myself waking up at rude hours of the night, flipping furiously through the cable channels in search of something that doesn't cause tangible damage to my brain. I pop 3 800mg ibuprofen pills to keep my throat and head from stacking enormous quantities of pain on top of the fatigue that I'm inevitably experiencing. I scour the internet for advice, tips, any sort of information I can get on this horrible illness characterized by uncertainty and unpredictability.
I sit while I am "lysol"ed, trying not to vocalize my borderline offense.
It's funny cause in the corner of this bedroom are all my belongings, strategically placed in crates and boxes, taunting me with the reminder that I'm supposed to be leaving in 3 days, moving in on my own, beginning the nesting process.
Meeting with my counselor, figuring my schedule out.
But I haven't the energy.
Even if I do physically heal, and this happens, I still feel drained of mental energy. So it's like some more watered down tired version of me is experiencing this move.
Not me.
I'm interested to see how this all plays out.
Until then, CNBC marijuana documentaries.
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