This blows.

I'm on vacation this coming week and I'm f'ing sick. I'd been fighting since this past Monday, thinking that my throat soreness was due to heavy practice with Edicius Oz. My vocals are really improving. I'd been powering through each day at the Centre until yesterday. I still feel I have alot to prove there, so I'd been refusing to acknowledge I'm ill, therein lies my folly. At the Centre--if you show weakness, the pack mentality comes out.

I worked yesterday just long enough to complete the week's tasks asked of me. I hit the clinic only to find my doctor more concerned about obtaining Barack Obama inauguration ball tickets than figuring out if I'm dying. Nice. My f'ing doctor could care less. What's more, my own mother seems annoyed. WTF?!

It's not like I'm a whiner. I'd just like a little consideration. Hell, the doc said to rest. I can't do that with a clear conscience.

And so it begins...