No Break

Spring break was in the air and it smelt like sand. Just a few more days of those dreadful midterms and paradise would begin. Pulling all-nighters was no problem. It would be worth it, hands down. But just my luck, the spring break god felt differently. One word changed my outlook on my break: pneumonia.

So, there I was, sitting in the studio with 5 sweatshirts on and a cup of mocha. I just wanted to cry. All I wanted was that break...just a few days in the sun...was that really so much to ask for? Apparently so.

To top off my feelings of self-pity, the GMU bag lady strolled up to the studio's glass windows. Who is that woman anyway? And why, after all of my evil glares, must she still squash her face against the window? Most of us learned that was socially unacceptable at the age of 5. She obviously missed the memo.

As I picked out my cuts for the show I spotted a diamond in the rough--the Bloodhound Gang's Bad Touch. Hallelujah. For everyone's enjoyment, I chose to leave the mic on as I belted the lyrics. The pneumonia caused an added screeching effect to my voice that I swear is not normally there.

Have you ever noticed that when you're sick, everyone else is happy? It's true. When you're healthy, everyone is grumpy. The moment you become sick though, everyone struts around with smiles plastered to their faces. Yes, my stomach churns. Sitting behind the studio's glass windows I watched the happy children gossip and laugh about their wonderful spring breaks. Woe is me.