Sick of The Cold

It's places like these that make me appreciate air-conditioning less. Or should I say Hate.
Clinics, libraries, offices. Oh offices. Those viral spaces.
When did something of comfort turn into a brain freezing machine that chills you to the bones, into the most discomforting of discomfort, where you can't even sit without contorting your body in such a way that you think might help you battle against the works of the meat freezer, where long pants and a thick jacket start to prove useless. How on earth can anyone function comfortably under this fuckin igloo.

Sometimes I feel like setting up a bonfire.

It's sickening to be sick.

To be weak, and beaten down by these blasted bugs, succumbing to them like a whimpering kitten left out in the cold. Oh it sucks so bad.

Rocking in and out of the bed, hammer banging down on the head, limbs aching like they ache to a 50 year old, and the only source of comfort you can find albeit hardly any is to breathe and cry out while you writhe from left to right. And then it starts all over again.

As limp as a spinach is I. I really need to exercise. Pills don't do miracles, Sigh.