that's pants, not underwear okay.
and for fun, this is me after a 40 minutes jog:
... i wasn't called tomato in high school for nothing wtf
the end of camharlotness.
i'm sick again.
my nose is currently crying buckets. of mucus. wtf. (speaking of crying buckets, one time i had eyeliner on when i cried. i was emptying my woes to my cousin, and then i glanced at the mirror and burst out laughing because i look so damn ugly okay wtf, i don't know how my cousin could stand looking at me like that wtf)
left work at 5pm sharp, reached home at nearly 6pm and promptly did a superman thing of getting outta my workclothes and into my comfy wear, then crashing onto my bed; occasionally waking up to talk to my cousin (sleepy ramblings) or to check the time (only to decide, "screw it. i'm gonna sleep more." -ZZzzzzzz-)
so, here am I awake at the lovely hour of 2.40am, fresh after a cold shower, eating my porridge, and still debating as to whether I should take the drowsy flu pill or not. to take or not to take; that's the very-used hamlet quote of recent centuries (i bet shakespeare is somewhere out there, vomiting every time someone utters, "to... or not to...." as he laments, why oh why i created such a phrase!).
the risk is waking up very late for work or actually waking up on time and looking very drugged when i go for my morning class.
actually i could had gone home earlier from work. if i weren't such a dumbass ;______;, after visiting the clinic and not getting an mc, i was still hanging around my office when my superior bumped into me and say, "eh? why are you not going home?"
me: i didn't get an mc.
him: why aren't you at home?
much much later, the same scenario repeats itself... only THIS time he added, "when i said that, i'm giving you permission to go home la."
i fail. massively.
(think i'll take the pill anyway. and sleep. omg druggie at work in 4 hours!)