Whatever, man, you're fucking sick.

So, I'm sick. Hence the blogging on Friday night. (I swear. I really did have some invites to go out tonight.) I'm actually kind of angry because I have been very sympathetic towards all these sickies while maintaining my distance, and now the bastards have given the disease to me. The common symptom for this unknown illness seems to be extremely swollen, painful lymph nodes. Anyway, let's get down to business. I need to drug myself and go to sleep.

I've decided that I will no longer hang out with couples. For some reason, (I have probably already touched on this earlier) people who are practically strangers tend to see me as the confidante they've never had. I don't know whether I seem understanding or non-judgmental or what. I'm none of these things. I don't understand things I haven't experienced personally and I make unfair judgments about every person I meet. Perhaps because I am very self-absorbed and I tend to relate everything to myself, people confuse this with understanding, or at the very least, interest. But the truth is I'm only interested in myself. The other flaw one will encounter when confiding in me is that I'm completely untrustworthy. I wouldn't be able to keep a secret if my life depended on it. It's not my fault, I just feel the need to tell everyone everything I know and think.

Anyway, so since I'm apparently the best (and by best I mean absolute worst) choice of person to tell your innermost secrets, this is where the couple problem happens. My friend will tell me some information, which they do not mention is private and they don't tell me to keep to myself. So of course, I naturally assume that they have already told their significant other. I mean, when you're sleeping with someone on a regular basis and planning a life with them and forcing me to hang out with them too, I guess I just think that occasionally the two of you would actually talk about things. Maybe that's crazy. I sure as hell don't have the relationship experience to be making these assumptions, but my experience as a human being with a multitude of non-romantic relationships leads me to believe that this is not a ludicrous idea. Even if I only recall my limited experience in romantic endeavors, I know for a fact that in (how shall I put this?) intimate moments, some people allow private thoughts to slip.

So then your boyfriend buys me shot after shot, and I bring up a topic I assumed he was familiar with. You are not allowed to get mad at me. Seriously. It's not okay. If you don't want to be honest with the guy you have insisted I befriend, then don't fucking tell me anything, or even better, don't insist that he tag along. And seriously, do us all a favor, and break up with the poor guy. After this long explanation, my decision is that I will no longer be pushed into an uncomfortable situation by one or both members of a couple. I don't give a shit. Fix it your damn self. I'm not your god-forsaken therapist.

So that's it. Enough anger to keep my blood pressure up until Sunday. Quick question: does anyone on fucking myspace know how to spell ridiculous? Because right now, I'm not convinced anyone does. Alright, now it's cold medicine time. Every time I take NyQuil, I get exactly six hours of sleep. Is it odd that I know that?