I woke up at 1:30 tonight shaking and weak all over and puked up some blood in between passing out. This is a shocking development.

I blame it on that thing I stepped on yesterday morning that went deep into my foot before I pulled it away. By the afternoon my foot felt like it was the size of a cannon. Possibly this means I’m dying, but at least it will be a suffering-packed death, which at least interests me.

There’s also the possibility that a relatively minor stab wound (inflicted out of boredom) in my chest is infected or something, but I’m usually very good about that shit.

This is all weird, since I don’t usually get sick (outside of the ways that I’m sick on a daily basis). I have this fear that this is something i picked up from the various people I’ve been around lately who’ve been sick. That would suck, since I usually consider myself impervious to comunicable illnesses. But I guess realistically I should remember that four days ago I forgot ot take some of my pills and got sick like this that night, and that I didn’t take my pills today until right before I went to bed tonight.

Fuck. This is blogging at it’s best, no?

To make up for it, here’s a photo of me pretending to be tough:

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