My Knees Shake, My Heart Beats Like A Drum

Guess what, I'm planning to launch a "my screwed-up days in the suburbs of hell" series, or how about "confessions of a miserable madwoman?" I'm having tough ones these days, really. Yesterday, after giving up the plan of sleeping enough at least once a week, I woke to what turned out to be one of my most miserable days. By the time I finished breakfast it was 11, then my Mom and her husband were replacing the rope in my blinds, so I was forced out of the room and passed time by polishing my nails and doing aerobics at last. In the rest of the day Mom forced me to clean my room. And by cleaning I mean that we turned the bed on its side and hoovered and cleaned up every inch of the floor. Then we took all the volumes off the bookcase, hoovered them, and put them back on the cleaned shelves. The whole procedure lasted for about six hours, during which I had to climb the ladder, which I hate, and hit my head and near-sprained my ankle, and felt like whining. In the meantime my sister and my sister were having fun at the fun-fair because she had a gift ticket and someone had to go with her. Isn't that the cruelest thing in the world, tell me?
Then today it continued. After sleeping about five hours I got up with a pain in my ankle and Achilles whatever. I had a morning class from 7 a.m. to 8.30, then came home and slept till 11.30. Until this point it was a good day, I even had a blueberry croissant. Then I quickly prepared for a lesson and had to write a CV for Dad because my sister, who is a HR-freak, decided it was the perfect day for dealing with it. So I had to eat my lunch in less than 10 minutes, and headed back to work.
I was reading a story by Ephraim Kishon on the bus, which was a really disgusting story with medical references, and if you know me well, you should remember I've had a problem with medical everything since I was a child. I knew I was going to faint and tried to hold it back, unzipped my coat, tried to take deep breaths, the routine stuff. Next thing I know the man behind me was holding my head from falling backwards and a woman came asking if I was all right. I said yes of course because what do you say in the middle of a motorway, on a bus full of people looking at you? Besides, she considered calling the ambulance, which I wanted to avoid with all might.
I felt better indeed, though I considered getting up and vomitting or waiting for another bus and have some fresh air, but finally I managed to the company. I even started my class, though I found it hard to hold my head steady. After a struggle of 20 minutes, during which I kept yawning and crouching I decided to call the thing off, especially because he thought I was just too tired and didn't give a damn about his efforts, which was partly true.To tell the truth, I'm fed up with being the one who skips classes at university because of menstruation and cancels lessons because of fainting and being sick. I feel like some Versailles lady with a fan, only they don't vomit in the street and keep murmuring fuck through gritted teeth.
The funny thing is, or not so funny, but rather odd, is that my boyfriend also got sick and came home from work. I hope to recover for tomorrow, though, but I still have a stinging headache. And a bad taste in my mouth. And sometimes my knees feel like collapsing when I try to walk. At least we had some fun watching Beugró on the Net.