I really thought I was feeling better, but the violent uprising of last night’s dinner said otherwise. I’m currently wallowing in day number 5 of my marathon intestinal woes, and I am pretty damn tired of it all. I also don’t get sick days yet, so my gastro difficulties are not just annoying but damn expensive. There is nothing good about my being sick, let alone the surprise appearance of my womanly flows over a week early. I give, okay? I am crying uncle. I’ll learn it in another language if you want, just lay the fuck off with the things oozing out of my body.

I’ve been trying to hunt down my teenage angst in honour of the Teen Angst Poetry night that I can’t attend. I know I have years upon years of angsty teenage journal entries, but I was never really one for writing poetry – but I thought I’d look anyway, just in case. I didn’t find much in box number one and two and I really think I’m going to have to fire up the Mac Classic to find some of the textual gold I know I have from the days of yore. I did find almost all my report cards from kindergarten through “graduation”, though – and it was highly amusing to rediscover that I was apparently a mouthy little weirdo. In almost every report, the teacher of the year said the same thing – Kimli is a good student, but she is talkative and disruptive. Occasionally there will be examples of my burgeoning personality – I’ve already mentioned the “write about something other than Transformers” entry, but there were others. It’s also interesting to note that I hated PE since day one. My report cards were pretty much the same – A, A+, B+, B, A, A, A+, C+ – guess where the C came in. Even as a wee mouthy weirdo, I saw little purpose in running laps. Take that, organized exercise!

I am so bored. I think I’ll haul out the Mac Classic after all; see if I can’t find some early 90’s pain to rehash and laugh at.