I have been sick since Tuesday. I never really thought that it could be worse based upon your situation or surroundings, but let me tell you that it can. Feeling horridly awful is one thing, feeling horridly awful while in a cold dreary place thousands of miles away from family and friends (and all the comforts of home) is quite another. Being sick is always miserable no matter where you are, but being sick here, by myself, is ten times worse than being sick at home. I miss all the little things that I never took notice of before. The constant supply of juice and tissues and lozenges. While in this case I have none of these things. It hurts too much to breathe in the air outside so walking to the store is slightly out of the question (besides which it hurts to talk). I therefore have been left to drink way too much tea and watch Friends reruns in the hopes that I will magically get better eventually. After five days of living with this false hope I am now beginning to question the possibility of ever returning to full health without the aid and intervention of certain products and/or people. I have been secluded to my apartment for two straight days. On Thursday I made the mistake of going to one class and I fear that set me back farther, so I plan on staying put until fully well. This will mean no church tomorrow, no Cliffs of Moher with the roommates, no fun sightseeing, no galavanting about the city. Call it a pity party if you want (cause that’s basically what it is) but I hate this week so much. I am sick of being sick and I just want to feel well again. It would be awesome if I felt well again by Monday so I could actually go to class for a change. I didn’t come all this way and spend all this money just to sit in this apartment feeling miserable and wishing I was home. I want to breathe pain-free and sleep without wanting to rip my throat out. Is that too much to ask for?