As I lay stying

Nothing beats waking up feeling like Quasimodo, except maybe looking like him.

I’ve had this eyelid infection (some call it conjunctivitis, some call it a stye, and I call it a serious pain in the ass) since Friday. It’s only minorly irritating in and of itself, but then there’s this fairly nagging headache that came along for the ride. You know those headaches that aren’t really headaches as much as they are precursors to the real pain?

Yeah, one of those.

So I guess I’m not really in pain as much as I am in constant anticipation of pain.

Eyedrops be damned (and I’m not entirely convinced, in spite of all the poison warnings on the box, that I didn’t pay a $4.40 co-payment for a bottle of saline solution) — I wonder at this moment if I could learn to sleep with one eye permanently opened?

Ladies, what’s more attractive: an eye swollen half-shut, or an eye missing the upper lid? I know it’s a tough call, but flip a coin if you must; my romantic future may depend on it.

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