The Angry Arthritis Monster

You know those Weight Watcher commercials that have that orange hairy thing that’s supposed to be hunger? Well I have something similar to that. I call it the Angry Arthritis Monster.

Last summer, before I headed back up to College Station, I had a fever. It lasted a week. My joints were achy and I felt terrible everywhere. I thought it must have been the flu or mono or something terrible. We went to the doctor, and he told me that I might have arthritis.

I’m 19. I was 18 at the time. Isn’t it ridiculous that I could have arthritis. It’s a mean, nasty disease that I inherrited from my mother and stressed out into the open by my many pursuits of a volleyball to the floor. Sports bring about disaster in my family, apparently. This will sadly impair me to run a marathon, most likely.

Today as I was walking to Bio Bio on my way to Mol Gen, I hurt everywhere. I hate the Angry Arthritis Monster, and so I cursed him aloud to Mariah. She cursed him right along with me. She even impersonated him after I personified him. I think that’s reason number 782 why we’re best friends.

Cold days are the worst.

The weekend’s tomorrow!!!


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