Swine Flu Makes Pigs of Us All...

I have discovered the worst possible way to start a Tuesday (with the possible exception of genocide.)

I woke up for my alarm, let it snooze, and suddenly discovered that it was 11:20. I don't have class until 1:30, thankfully, but I was supposed to meet my waltz partner to practice at 11. Oops. I put in my contacts, threw on some pants (essential!) and pulled my hair back on the way out the door. I ran to campus through the lightly drifting snow, sans jacket. Those who know me well may now be thinking to themselves, "Dag, no jacket? This demonstrates desperation!" And believe me, it does.

Reaching the Wilk in a very numb state, I searched high and low for my dance partner. He was nowhere to be found. Nor was his contact information on Blackboard, the BYU directory, or facebook. After about twenty minutes, I abandoned my elusive dance partner and discovered that I felt quite awful, physically. This could be due to a lack of breakfast. It could also be due to the fact that I ran to campus - I feel like Jack Sparrow when I run, so I don't generally force my body into that lack of dignity. Or, I suppose, I could be remarkably cliche, and actually have swine flu. Bah! My body, unfortunately, did not care to ruminate on the matter. I stopped by a public restroom to vomit. Not a choice experience. I do not recommend it.

So now what, Self? I am sitting at home, refusing to go to class, watching the snow, trying not to eat the mountainous pile of cookies on the table, not really wanting to eat anything else. Conclusion: snow makes me ill. But it also seems to bring cookies. Hmm.