I hate colds. I hate seeing the pile of used tissues get bigger every three second, I hate feeling like I am being slowly shot in the forehead by a chunky rifle, but most of all, it’s the almost inevitable asthma I get afterwards.
Now, I’m fairly lucky with my asthma. I don’t usually think it hinders my life at all anymore. I can run, I can go to the gym (on occasions) and (this pun is made by request) the cold never bothered me anyway… part of me just died.
Unfortunately, during the winter months, where I get back to school and colds are spreading, I am faced with the options of being a social outcast or tearing up my trachea. While social outcasting is probably the better option, I vote for talking to people, and becoming the first to die (a.k.a. miss school first).
Oh yeah! The book. I read this book a while back on my Kobo, which now sits collecting dust in the corner of my room. I prefer the real deal. Little did I know, this book surprised me in more ways than one…