sickly

CALLING IN SICK. As much as I do like my new silhouette, there's one thing or two I hate with passion: constantly feeling cold (yesterday I even told My Boy it had been snowing although it wasn't but it definitely was in my mind's eyes) and being prone to any virus there is in town. I always say my name is Lucky cause when almost two weeks ago it was cold I was dancing outside in nothing but a top (alcohol has this magical power to make you feel warmer but it also takes your common sense for a while) and nothing happened (apart from food poisoning but only due to eating too fast). In winter I kept wearing no socks to sport my converse and show off my ankles. Nothing happened. But what goes around comes back around and I got sick. I don't know how or when (although My Boy has his own conspiracy theory and takes the blame on him and I kept telling he got sick earlier because of me and it's a vicious circle and everyone is guilty) but it happened. In the least appropriate moment of course as it usually is with any illness. Anyway, it just wouldn't be me if I hadn't decided to leave my humble abode for a while today. My mistake. The amount of people spreading bad vibes aka viruses scared me to the bone and I started regretting getting out of my flat the moment I entered the tram. In the meantime I got hungry so I helped myself with a kosher, vegan and all things jazzy spazzy cookie but suddenly it was too sweet. That's how I knew the morning was just the calm before the storm. Fig Bar, cause that's what we're talking about here, is one of those pleasures which aren't guilty and I could eat it like glitter. For breakfast, lunch and tea that is. After that I refused a really special offer and didn't get one nail polish almost for free. I'm a sucker for nail polishes and turning that down is something I'll regret tomorrow in the morning. Then I came back home, almost frozen cause my cheeks were red and my nose too. This called for a nap. 2 hours after which I almost forced myself to get up only to find out I'm feeling even colder and my head is about to explode. Since I truly believe in the Irish saying that sleep and a cuppa are the best cure for anything, I made myself two cuppas. No, they didn't help. That's why in the end I pampered my sick self with some instant vanilla pudding. Instant is the key here cause it felt like eating the whole periodic table and had little to do with indulgence. Instant noodles would be much better. 

But to avoid sounding so pessimistic (do I indeed?), there are also good things happening. First of all, I got myself a paper edition of Jewish Antiquities by Flavius Josephus. Dirt cheap considered the average price for books in English sold in Poland (32 PLN so a real deal). I also had time to organise all the uni stuff (if it's even possible doing two majors at the same time and given the fact I still haven't mastered my bilocation skills). Aaaaand yas! Days off mean reading, reading and reading so I'm buried in The Finkler Question. Need to finish it asap cause there are other books waiting (not to mention those smiling at me in every bookshop) and Flavius is on the list. 

Take care of Your lovely selves You lovely people cause autumn is golden and beautiful but it can also be a real pain in the neck. Or the thorat. And the head.