Samson Complex

It's true. I've got myself a Samson Complex. A beautiful lady chopped off my hair and I lost all my strength.

Maybe I should go back to Friday. I've got some 'splaining to do.

One day I woke up and I realized I wanted to get a haircut. A big one. And I wanted it bad, because as soon as I decided I wanted it cut, all the hair on my head became 200 times heavier. I felt like I had strands of steel coming out of my head, and they dragged me down. I thought for sure that getting a haircut would make me feel lighter than air, and maybe give me some enthusiasm to channel into my schoolwork.

So last Friday, I went in to see my lovely hairstylist friend, and she happily chopped off seven inches of my hair. I had worn braids going in, but coming out I didn't even have enough hair for pigtails. My long and tangled locks have turned into a short and sassy 'do. I was very pleased.

Until the next morning, when I woke up several times before dawn with a hacking cough that ripped my throat and shriveled my lungs. That's right. I had been visited with the charming Bronchitis bug. And I had it bad. I spent the whole weekend lying on the couch and moaning. Oh, and coughing until I thought I was going to throw up.

It didn't get better for a long time. I called work off for the entire week to see if I could sleep myself better; I skipped my dance class, my Spanish class, and any other class I could get out of without killing my grade. But I still had to go to school. I spent five hours in the library on Monday finishing an annotated bibliography, and many more hours finishing a project for a different class. I did the bare minimum, and spent the rest of the time...resting.

I'm feeling much better now, thank you, but I'm still coughing and feeling drained of all energy. Thus, I haven't posted on my blog in quite a while. So . . . hi. I'm still here. And I'm craving honeycomb.

(Reference joke!)