Sick of This Shit
I get it: life is hard. But I swear to God I am going to get you if you keep making me feel like shit all the time. I’ve been trying to tell you something, you idiot, and that something is that you need to take a break.
I thought you’d start to get the picture after all of the hunger pains I’ve been sending our stomach, but nooo — here you are with your one snack pack of goldfish crackers every six hours, apparently too much of an idiot to think it might be a problem. Watch me give us an ulcer and then we’ll see how you feel about it.
Don’t even get me started on those horrible energy drinks. Girl, I promise you can get through literally one day without grabbing another Celsius from Sixth Market. That combined with your wack-ass sleep schedule is enough to make me unable to function, but oh no, I guess that makes me the bad guy. I’ve been trying to tell you through yawns that we need to sleep, but apparently, you care more about your MATH 20E homework than doing something nice for me for a change.
Well, guess what? Two can play at that game, bitch. Maybe it’s time I give you a taste of your own medicine, so you’ll actually take some for that cough we’ve got. Maybe it’s time you oversleep your alarm and miss a quiz. Maybe I’ll give us explosive diarrhea. Maybe I’ll just give us a fever so bad that you’ve got to go to the hospital — I mean it’s not like you’re going to work on vector calculus in the ER, right? … Right?
Please, I’m fucking begging you, just listen to me and chill out for like five minutes! We’re 20 now; I can’t keep doing all-nighters once a week like I could when we were 16. Do you want us to die before you’ve finished that stupid degree? And no, you asshole, I can’t wait just a few weeks ’til finals are over to break down. Because you know what? I don’t think I can.
You’re gonna start that goddamn internship or summer job or whatever the hell you’ve decided we’re doing this summer. You’re lucky that I’ve been so diligent at keeping us from getting sick this quarter, even with all that crap you’re putting in me. And no, cup noodles are not a meal! I swear you’ve eaten so much of that shit, we’ll be plagued with scurvy by the time we’re 25 like some Victorian pirate! How hard is it for you to just eat a god- damn orange? Now listen, this is your last warning: if you don’t shape up, they’ll be shipping us home in a casket.
