I don’t feel great at the moment–although comparatively I’m better than I’ve been.  My allergies are kicking in hardcore, and I’m annoyed with feeling shitty, since I have been since the night before.  Not being able to breathe and having a crushing headache gets old pretty fast.  In other words, I’m glad I feel less awful than I have been before. 

But that’s not what I’m sick of. 

I got a call from my mother asking how I was, and I made the mistake of mentioning something that I’m probably doing next weekend with my boyfriend.  She proceeded to go into all the reasons why I shouldn’t do it, including a couple things that felt to me like indirect digs at said boyfriend.  Maybe I’m being paranoid, and I hope to hell I am, but knowing my parents, I’m pretty sure that’s not the case.  I’m so fed up of trying to defend this person I care about so much from a group of people who I also care about, and every time I have to I feel like I’m slowly being torn apart.  

Am I going to do the thing next weekend with my boyfriend?  I really want to, but I don’t want the allergies to kick in again because I’d be outside a ton.  Most importantly, I don’t want to give my parents the satisfaction of being right, and giving them more to snip at me–at HIM–about. 

We’ll see.  I have a week to decide. 


2 thoughts on “Sick

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