An open letter to the human body.
Dear Body,
What the f--. I mean, really. What the f--.
Don't get me wrong. I admire the genius of your design. Walking on two legs? Convenient. Opposable thumbs? Pretty sweet. Higher brain functions? I'm a fan. But I wonder, sometimes, if you don't have some things to work out.
Case in point -- sickness. I know that fever was your doing. And that constant sinus drainage? Uh huh. Seriously, I appreciate what you're doing, I get that it's all for the sake of burning out/flushing out/otherwise eliminating whatever stranger is in our midst. But there's got to be a better way than beating yourself up over it. Sure, those symptoms pass, but you certainly don't get it right every time. Just look at spring allergies. Remember that time I was laid out for a week because you sniffed up some pollen and decided to go on red alert? Yeah, don't deny it. It was bad. My parents were out of town and I was staying at a friend's house, and we used all their tissues. They were a family of eight. That was a hell of a lot of tissues. Jerk.
It can't even end there, can it? Oh no, because I'm a girl you have so much more at your disposal. I'm not having a baby anytime soon, so quit the prep work. But you never listen. Honestly, I could be putting that blood to much better use, so I really wish you wouldn't waste it. But if you've really got to, if you've just kind of gotten into the habit and would rather not give it up, I could do without the water retention and mind numbing cramps. I'm not quite sure what you've got regulating the hormones in there, but you might want to get it checked out. Maybe fire somebody (horrible pun not intended). Whatever. Something's a little off. And the fat retention -- like I said, we don't need to plan to feed two anywhere in the near future, so really, just burn it off. I'm sick of losing arm wrestling matches to my spindly guy friends who never work out, just because you whine about not having enough testosterone and won't build muscle. When I go running for an hour, don't quietly shuffle the fat aside and eat whatever else is around -- I understand your packrat tendencies, but really, throw it out. If you ever really, really need any, I'll get you some. Brand new. Promise. This is college, it's not like it's hard.
But now that I have it all laid out in front of me, suddenly, things are starting to make sense. Don't think I'm not on to you. This is a mutiny, isn't it? You're staging a hostile takeover, a coup, a desperate bid for -- well, I don't know what, because to get to me you have to take yourself out, too. Then we're both f--ed. So why don't we put our differences aside. We should work in harmony -- if not for a better tomorrow, then because we are stuck with each other, forever, whether we like it or not.
Sincerely yours,
Jordan
P.S. If you pull that lingering sickness shit again, I will Vitamin C bomb you into next week. Oh, I'll do it. Don't think I won't.
