Hello, illness, my old friend...

My wife does a really fine job of describing the pitfalls we go through in regards to illness. I'm just flat-out pissed off about it - and yes, I'm completely aware of how uneloquent I'm being. But why should I? Do you think the mycoplasma pneumonia rapped on my glasses and said, "Morning, Sir. If you don't mind now, I'm going to invade your body with a sickness that will bring the bubonic plague to mind. You'll wallow in pain and fatigue, you'll probably cough more than you ever have in your entire life, you'll realize that the liter of mucuous you produce in a day surely won't all come out your nose, and this is all going to last for at least a week?"

No. Of course not. And, to top it off, I get really sick of talking about all of my illnesses. But really - since Thanksgiving, I have been sick about 14 of the past 21 weeks, and to top it all off, my doctor is telling me not to worry because, "it's a bad year."

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I essentially finished my MPA on April 6th. And I'm even going to get an award. I gave my final presentation, and had since finished up my readings and conferences. It does feel good knowing that I don't have to take another class in my entire life if I don't want to - then I realize that I've got another three or four years of school, starting next year. So, I guess I'll really be 30 when I'm done with school.