Tell me this is paradise and not some place I fell.

I hate being sick. When I was in high school and even in middle school, I hardly ever got sick and when I did it was normally something serious. That means that if I get something even as simple as a sore throat I want to crawl into bed and not get out until it is gone being the baby that I am. Though, this is much worse than a sore throat. I actually had the same thing as the beginning of the summer -- it hurts to talk. My voice is raspy and nasty, and it is hard to breath at times. My fever means I'm hot one moment and freezing the next. Sleep has been difficult too, but farming BGs on WoW at 4AM is actually pretty nice. Go figure. It is nowhere near as bad as the first time at least and that hopefully means it won't last anywhere near as long as the first time. Thankfully, I also have 3 days off from work. I felt terrible when I worked on Sunday and you could just see Drew, one of my favorite managers and the one working that day, giving me warning looks from across the room when I started getting impatient with customers.

I also went over to JcPenney, my first job, after work that day to see if I could find any work clothes and maybe talk to that old coworker I mentioned before. The cute one. No luck there on either, but it is amazing how different it feels. I used to see that place 4-5 times a week for almost a year straight -- the same people, the same drama, the same everything. It almost seems like a completely different lifetime ago now, which is somewhat strange since it was only about a year and a half ago I quit. Drama ran rampant there. There was never a dull day, but there was also never a day without some type of petty drama either and oftentimes over the same guy. You would think if someone knew a guy was messing around with a number of their coworkers they'd have the sense to not get involved with him, yet so many of them did. People ended up having their tires slashed in their cars, drinks poured all over them, things thrown at them, just to name a few. It was drama you would expect in a high school. While I was there, I talked with the few people in there I still recognized, even making an attempt to talk to the supervisor I had butted heads with and upset pretty badly before I quit. I'd like to think I have matured since then, and left her with my very, very subtle version of an apology. Pride keeps me from giving her a proper one nor does she deserve one even after all this time, but it hardly matters now.