The Book That Shall Not Be Named For The Sake Of Humanity

Chapter One - Math Problems Are solvable, At Least

WARNING: Dark humour. Avoid like the plague if you are not immune to it. 

I live life by two words, and they are "Hakuna" and "Matata". My modus vivendi being guilt and worry -free does not essentially mean that I don't have problems. I do, but they're quite different to what the average person may refer to as problems. My issues may sound a tad bit comic than problematic to the point they put sit-coms to shame. After all, my entire life - in summarization, is a joke. Allow me to demonstrate.

Where do I even begin? Ah, yes.

A few years ago, I, quite naturally, ended up being hospitalized for a kidney infection. Okay, okay, I suppose I do have normie problems; but plot twist – that wasn't my problem.

My problem was with a few overly curious individuals, otherwise known as medical students (read: minions of Satan). Of course, I had to be transferred to a teaching hospital, of all the bloody places in the universe. Now, I could have tolerated being poked and prodded at for the sake of science, but unfortunately, they decided to bombard me with questions instead. One of them in particular comes to mind.

'Do you have a boyfriend?' they would ask me.

'No,' I say. This should be easy. And man, was I wrong.

They visited me at least thrice every single day for an entire week, only to ask the same exact question without fail. I would have understood if it were different people at every turn, but no, it was the same folks. Suffice to say, I thought I was dead and was being tormented in hell, before even in my half dead state, I came into realization that the torture human beings are capable of inflicting precedes that of hellish torture.

I think what students in school should be taught is to answer stupid questions like this without going insane, instead of math problems where some gormless fellow attempts to eat seventy thousand kilograms of cabbage to fill the void where his brain should be.

Ahh, I miss it though. I feel like I should have said yes on a few occasions just to fuck with them. Then there was the last time they dared to show their face again. That day, like most others, I had a big- ass syringe injecting me with what I hoped was heroin, but instead it made my blue veins a furious red and had me squirming in pain. These clowns turn up on the assumption that I'm ready to give in, oblivious to the fact that I was feeling better and my smart mouth was on unrated mode.

They sent my mother outside, to have a 'word in private' with me. Their hopes of having me confide in them were crushed when I quite colourfully worded out where they could direct their questions at. Even today, my mum brings this up at family dinners to point out what an absolute charmer her daughter is.

How a relationship gets in the way of contracting an infection that is not an STD and finding a cure for it is number one in my list of questions I don't have answers to. I would kill to know why.

Which brings us to this moment. You might want to buckle up real tight. With a piña colada and five dozen bottles of vodka for good measure.

***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   

The closer we get to the hospital, the more I wish I had driven the knife into my heart instead of my shoulder. I am in no shape or form ready to answer what ever it is they might ask me this time. You might start to wonder "what the hell happened here?" and you have every right to, so stay tuned for the encore of "Shit, I stabbed myself".

I arrive at work, and it didn't take me long to figure out that I had left my laptop at home. By 'home', I mean my boyfriend Blaine's house, where I moved in the previous day. My house is in dire need of repairs courtesy of a surprise visit by my dear friends, the termites. I'm not thrilled about moving in with him – he's a little allergic to being messy. On top of it all, I don't want our parents to know about this. Like with every parent, me having a boyfriend makes them hear wedding bells, and now that we live together, I know that they would finish picking baby names for our kids.