This weekend I was ill, I hate being ill. I'm miserable, I feel miserable, I look miserable, and I act miserable.
And I lie in various places in the house (depending on where Dan is :) ) and moan about how ill I am feeling. (Once I spent a whole weekend moaning in my sisters bathtub (soothing hot water) about how ill I was, and no one took any notice of me. I ended up at the emergency room - HA!).
Admittedly this weekend wasn't that bad.
I made a brief outline on how I am treated when ill:
Day 1: I get little, or no sympathy on account of being 'dramatic' :)
Day 2: I finally get sympathy once Dan realises I may be ill and then I am looked after....
Day 3: I am discarded, and ignored once Dan realises I'm not on my way out.
Day 3 arrived early this time:
TRUE STORY!
Click on the image to see clearer.
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