So, let me tell you what I did today. I'm going to be very descriptive or Gatsbyish so here we go.
THE GREAT SICKNESS
Today is the third day of sickness for me. Yesterday, towards the end of the evening, I had Natalia check my forehead for a temperature. When she couldn't tell if I was warm, she called on the other girls who tested my forehead which resulted in me using a real thermometer. My temperature had risen to 100.7 and I had become enraged at the fact that my next day could involve the same effortless activities related to book reading, phone scanning, and the latter of the subjects. Madeline proceeded to converse with our Mentor, Dana, on the subject resulting in my diagnosis of the Common Cold and near seven capsules of unrecognizable substances tossed down my throat.
"Don't ask," spoke Madeline, wide eyed and almost disheveled.
"I can't help but wonder--," I started, but instantly cut off by the sharp words spewing from Madeline's cherry lipped mouth.
"Don't. Ask."
Camille and Natalia comforted me as I regained my understanding that work would be offered to me the day after tomorrow. I proceeded to shower myself, prepare for a long nights slumber, and lay under my blue stripped comforter sweating my fever and the night away.
This morning, I arose with a note crushed between the door and the door-frame addressed to me. It was signed by all three girls
Morganne,
We did not wish to wake you so we left quietly this morning. We hope that you are doing well. If you are ready and able to join us at work, meet us down at the farm and you shall be assigned duties. If you are feeling the latter, consume the medicine layed out so tastefully on your bedside table.
- Camille, Natalia, and Madeline
I placed the note down at the foot of my bed on top of my blue striped comforter and assessed my options. Am I feeling well enough? I asked myself.
I eventually came upon the descision that my body still required this last day of rest, hoping that tomorrow I can feel fantastic and work as just. And then there was the decision on how to occupy my time that I so badly wished could be burned.
I read almost all of The Great Gatsby which surely has become one of my most favored and celebrated books that my eyes have ever witnessed and mentally consumed. In between reading and phone scanning, I finished laundry that should have already been finished, prepared and consumed my meals, and scrubbed dishes to he cleanliness they deserve. And all the while coughing and sneezing like there was no other time in my history to do so. What wasted time I have spent lazing around with this illness.
THE GREAT SICKNESS
Today is the third day of sickness for me. Yesterday, towards the end of the evening, I had Natalia check my forehead for a temperature. When she couldn't tell if I was warm, she called on the other girls who tested my forehead which resulted in me using a real thermometer. My temperature had risen to 100.7 and I had become enraged at the fact that my next day could involve the same effortless activities related to book reading, phone scanning, and the latter of the subjects. Madeline proceeded to converse with our Mentor, Dana, on the subject resulting in my diagnosis of the Common Cold and near seven capsules of unrecognizable substances tossed down my throat.
"Don't ask," spoke Madeline, wide eyed and almost disheveled.
"I can't help but wonder--," I started, but instantly cut off by the sharp words spewing from Madeline's cherry lipped mouth.
"Don't. Ask."
Camille and Natalia comforted me as I regained my understanding that work would be offered to me the day after tomorrow. I proceeded to shower myself, prepare for a long nights slumber, and lay under my blue stripped comforter sweating my fever and the night away.
This morning, I arose with a note crushed between the door and the door-frame addressed to me. It was signed by all three girls
Morganne,
We did not wish to wake you so we left quietly this morning. We hope that you are doing well. If you are ready and able to join us at work, meet us down at the farm and you shall be assigned duties. If you are feeling the latter, consume the medicine layed out so tastefully on your bedside table.
- Camille, Natalia, and Madeline
I placed the note down at the foot of my bed on top of my blue striped comforter and assessed my options. Am I feeling well enough? I asked myself.
I eventually came upon the descision that my body still required this last day of rest, hoping that tomorrow I can feel fantastic and work as just. And then there was the decision on how to occupy my time that I so badly wished could be burned.
I read almost all of The Great Gatsby which surely has become one of my most favored and celebrated books that my eyes have ever witnessed and mentally consumed. In between reading and phone scanning, I finished laundry that should have already been finished, prepared and consumed my meals, and scrubbed dishes to he cleanliness they deserve. And all the while coughing and sneezing like there was no other time in my history to do so. What wasted time I have spent lazing around with this illness.
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