When I’m sick, I feel like my limbic system (the part of the
brain the deals with emotion) (Human Development major holla!) is out of my
body on display for everyone to touch and scratch and hold and pet. I feel
everything too much. I’m like “Put mah brain back you fools!”
I don’t get emotional
on my period, so once a year is better than once a month.
When someone tells me my hair looks pretty, I think
everything about them is perfect. When I’m hungry and nothing in my fridge
looks good, I want to take everything that doesn’t look good and shove it up
someone’s butt. When I look at the mountains of boxes and suitcases and trash
bags and clothes that I need to unpack, I want to burn it all and be naked and
homeless for the rest of my life. When someone says something annoying or
stupid, I want to hit them in the head. When my phone vibrates but I realize it
was someone else’s, I want to take that person’s phone and flush it down five
different toilets. When someone gives me a hug at church, I want to buy them a
present. When the blinds won’t go down and the sun is shooting through my window at full
speed, I want to die. It’s all super
rational. Maybe when I’m sick I should stay in my room by myself to prevent
this insanity, but then I’d feel so unbelievably lonely that tears might
actually come out of my face. And I’d probably put them in a jar and make
someone drink them. AND WE CAN’T HAVE THAT!
Watch out world, Tamara is sick.
