Sick of Being Sick

Cough! Cough! A...ACHOOOOO!!!!!

If the tittle and expressions above haven't given you a clue what's this post is gonna be about, you're probably an idiot. Or sick.

Yes, I'm down with the common cold (and I hope to God nothing more). I haven't been to school for a week now. In the beginning, my host sis was sick last Wednesday. We'd normally take the bus to school and I was still in  good health to go to school by myself.

However, because my Italian skills is as good as a 3-year-old kid, I'm not allowed to take the bus myself because they're afraid I might:

1. Not be able to identify the right bus.
2. Take the wrong bus.
3. Get lost.
4. Talk to some random stranger for help.
5. Accept help from a kindly looking fellow in a white van.
6. Somehow find myself next to the Great Wall of China after accepting a glass of coke from the kind fellow and later took a long nap and forget who I was.
7. Spend the next 20 years traveling the world, delivering packets of what looked like dried grass.
8. Eventually watch the news and see a tearful couple mentioning my name and how much they miss me.
9. Recognize that its my parents and remember who I really was.
10. Fight a bloody battle with my master and eventually escape alive.
11. Travel by foot for 3 years to Malaysia.
12. Reunite with my family once again.
13. Fly to Italy.
14. Attempt to take the bus to school again.
15. Take the wrong bus.

So... yeah. I'm not allowed to take the bus to school alone. Yeah.

A few days after my host sis got sick, I got sick too! FML...

Anyway, I hope I've been making a speedy recovery. I've been drinking A LOT of water and using the toilet A LOT of times. The good news is that my pimples are finally going away! YAY!!! In a few days, my skin will be nice and smooth, just how it used to be.

The bad new is that because I haven't been moving my ass for a week and I've never stepped foot out of the house, I've been rolling in the weight gain and I'm SO FAT!!! >.<

When I'm back in Malaysia, its gonna be a strict diet and kilometers upon kilometers of non stop running. Maybe I'd get a personal trainer.

Now I know how pregnant people feel...