No More Being Sick

We tell our GMAT students that if an answer in the grammar section has the word "being" in it, it is automatically incorrect and you can eliminate it. So I eliminate my title because I said being. Actually, I'm still sick, but I'm not allowing myself to talk about it anymore. Except to tell you that a few days ago I had a doctor's appointment and he gave me this cough medicine with codeine in it, bascially cuz I need a pain reliever to sleep, damn this rib. I've never had codeine before and everyone told me it would knock me out and I would love it. But I DIDN'T LOVE it. I was so paranoid I was going to not hear the alarm clock go off in the morning because I'd be so knocked out, I woke up EVERY HOUR. And my side hurt the whole damn time. So now I'm scared of the stuff. Oh, and the reason this is a funny story? I HAD NO REASON TO GET UP THAT MORNING. I didn't have class until 2:15. I could have slept until noon with NO CONSEQUENCES. Stupid me. Okay, so here's really why I'm writing. I have, since moving to Minneapolis, become a lot better about personal safety issues. And, by that, I mean I'm not super paranoid that everyone at the bus shelter is going to try to rape and/or mug me. Bus rides are now almost pleasant, because instead of fearing everyone on the bus, I am amused by them and take great pleasure in people-watching. The old black man with the orange beard...how did his beard get orange? WHere is he going? The guy at the bus shelter who asked me what time it was in a Jamaican accent? Why the hell is he in the coldest place ever and not back at his tropical island? The woman with a baby in a stroller and two other little kids with her? Hasn't she ever heard of the two children per one adult rule? But today I felt like I was in the middle of a social science experiment. Maybe I'm paranoid because I'm TAing for this experimental methods class, but really. This guy was yelling at another guy at the bus shelter. And I felt like it was one of those experiments where someone yells help and no one does anything. The shelter was way crowded. And none of us said anything. And then on the bus the yelling continued. And no one said anything. I was scared, but more because I didn't know what to do then because I thought that the guy would hurt me. He was threatening to beat the guy up. Should I have called the police? Was it any of my business? And did it make a difference to me that it was a guy yelling at a guy? I mean, no question, if it were a guy yelling at a woman or a child, I would stepped in. Or would I have? Why do I have this strange double standard? Okay, that's all. Oh, no, that's not all. Last week was Date Night and we were going to celebrate Valentine's Day then, and we did, but by celebrate, I mean Biker Boy did all the work and all I did was show up. Because I was too busy being sick. He cooked me dinner and gave me presents and make me feel like I was worthy, except for the part where I didn't reciprocate. But this week I feel better. So I just went to our local co-op and spent tons of money on gluten-free baking supplies and I'm going to make him gluten-free desserts and then I'll always have these gluten-free supplies, so I can make him desserts whenever I want to. And I'm going to get up early tomorrow and go to the florist and get him flowers and a card and a stuffed snake. I don't know why the snake, exactly, but I want a snake. And the parking lot at our local co-op. It's so not user friendly. I used to be scared of it. Now I'm just annoyed with it. So take that, local co-op with bad labor practices. So no more being sick and from now on I will not mention it again. Unless the doctor tells me that I am dead. Then I might mention it once again.