Mono-riffic.

When I was 19, I got mononucleosis from my boyfriend-at-the-time, now (obviously) ex-boyfriend. He thought it was comical. I was sick-sick-sick, throwing up every day before choir, miserable. Now, five years later, I have joined the sick-as-crap uncomfortable mono-riffic club again. It's terrible. Actually, it's not nearly as terrible as the first time around, but still pretty uncomfortable. But what is the most terrible thing about it, are the poor people whom I may have/might infect. It's not comical, it's a curse. I feel guilty about it. Though, professionals have assured me that the Epstein-Barr virus really isn't all that terribly contagious.

In other news, I am doing some clinical teaching hours at Ramsey International Fine Arts Center (k-8), and I'm loving it. I'm even working in a math classroom, which I thought I would hate, but I'm doing all right. The kids at the Arts High (PCAE) are terrific-as-ever and dramatic as all-get-out. Most of the dorm staff are looking forward to summer vacation, whereas I know that I will miss the students horribly.