Look at the blog, Larry. Just look at that blog.

This is gonna be about Band-Aids. It's pretty great.

#22. It’s Band-Aid Time. (You know. Like this week’s directive. Time).

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Ohhhhh man. Whooooaaaaa momma. Hooooooly mackerel.  I’m not feeling so funderful (fun + wonderful), my gentle, loving bloggies.

For that is what I’m calling you now. Bloggies. Even though it conjures up a mental image somewhere between the monsters from Critters and the monsters from Gremlins.

Dearest bloggies, how abso-fuckin’-lutely unbelieveable is it that this week’s directive is time? Craaaaazy, huh.

Because guess what I haven’t any of for the past two weeks.

Yeah, you guessed it. It was time. And at the epicenter of my time-quake is a big ol’ blogful of Band-Aids. Granted, five posts a week isn’t thaaaaat much. I actually feel like I’m starting to get the hang of it. But then you factor in other classes (specifically you, POLI-SCI 365-701. I won’t miss you. Not now. Not ever. Thanks for all those papers I’ve been writing). Factor in Honors College extra-curricular stuff. Factor in my being in the VCU Pep Band- an entire weekend at the CAA Tournament trying to fix my broken equipment while everyone else just stands there, using their normal, functioning instruments. Also factor in trying to have a social life/getting a good night’s sleep.

And I’ve been trying to squeeze ’em all in. And guess which one gets pushed to the side every time?

That would be the sleep. And the fun part about 2 solid weeks of nausea-inducing, constant headache, why-don’t-my-legs-like-to-move-when-I-wake-up-in-the-morning sleep deprivation is that my brain, in its weakened state, assigns blame just about anywhere it can to distract me from how tired I am.

And sorry, Band-Aids, but the blame seems like it’s fallin’ squarely on your latexy-smooth shoulders.


I don’t want to be writing this right now. I want to be asleep. But I’m making a promise to myself to parse out these blog entries for realsies this time. It angers me. I want to spend years in a top-secret research facility so that I can create the world’s first sentient Band-Aid, only to punch him right in his stupid sterilized fucking face.

And on that note, there’s the end of my No Time For Band-Aids Post. Didya like it? I didn’t. But my brain doesn’t like anything right now. Enjoy this photograph.

That's right, nothing says "I'm on hard drugs" like Kroger brand Ibuprofen

Did I mention that very little sleep makes me more susceptible to disease? Like colds and flus and strep throats. I probably should have mentioned that. It’s been a great couple of weeks.


Written by mandudeman

March 7, 2011 at 1:12 am

Posted in Week 6: Time

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