Full blown attack

The thing about school is that it just doesn’t stop when a student gets sick. If a paper is due, well, it’s due, and that’s all there is to it. Of course, there are exceptions (like a death in the family), but me being unable to see straight for most of the past week, being unable to tell the difference between my cheek and my eyeball due to an ugly sinus infection, and being unable to cauterize the constant stream of booger bags flowing from my face to the trash can is not an excuse that any self-respecting professor would accept for work not turned in. 

The ice remains decidedly uncut on consideration of the fact that it has hurt like the dickens for me to even look at a screen or a page this week, let alone read volumes of research material, compiling, rationalizing, sorting and organizing it all into a coherent whole. There will be no sympathy for me and my silly little tissue pile – no concern for how deficient I feel or for how the pressure is building minute by minute because truly this encounter with a less-than-healthy me is rendering my usual standards of work unreachable. As the bard said, Lo, how hardens the professorial heart, how stiffens the administrative resolve! Verily, though I toil and toil, my sickly sweat dripping unbidden on the page, I – oh, never mind. 

The last time I got sick at school it was the second week of the semester. That time there was nothing but reading to be done. This time there are deadlines and a standard to maintain. Am I going to be able to do it? 

Stay tuned. 

Now, a picture. 

Ah, school.

 

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