Bored & Tired...Couldn't Get Worse

I got off the boiling bus just in time as I staggered in to our building. I touched my sweaty forehead and my hand felt ice-cold. I took no notice to the fact that I was just about to be sick and let myself into our apartment. My mom was having the usual Monday guitar lessons and I dragged myself into my room. I wanted to take a shower so bad after sweating so much in P.E (I don't usually sweat in P.E). I told my sister who was washing her face at our only sink-we have to share a bathroom-and told me not to since the guitar teacher was still here. Great. One sweaty, boiling body that didn't get the oppurtunity to take an icy shower due to the fact that the guitar teacher was here, great (again).

I rolled onto my spare bed since I wasn't bothered to move my big, fat bag off my own. I started reading my book, The Last Song and stopped mid-sentence. I groaned at the pain that shot through my head as if it was being tightened and tightened by very large knuckles. I stuck my bookmark at the page and let my head hit the soft pillow and I never groaned so much in my life. The pain eased but I still felt the aftershock of the pain, leaving mental scars all over.

I ignored the headache once again and decided to repaint my nails. I was getting bored, but I didn't have any homework (not that I wanted any). I got myself a can of diet coke and continued reading. I blowed my purple nails occasionally and admired my perfect ones. I took a sip out of my diet coke and chocked. I coughed and spluttered non-stop, trying to keep my voice down so I didn't cause any trouble. Finally my throat cleared and I drew a calm breath and looked back why I was having trouble all of a sudden. Great, all I need was to catch another stupid cold that makes your nose go all horribly stuffy and you could hardly brathe. Yeah, I hate colds alright. Hope I don't get them. Fingers crossed.