Cake and Illusions

My body is being disobidient. I usually rule with fear and torture which is ok, torture is really just mind over matter, so even when it's self inflicted my body behaves and I feel no pain. Terrified yet?

Well my body has outdone me. I don't get ill on account of being invincible, etc. However my body has mushed my brain by giving me a blocked up cold. As this is my body rebelling and not an actual virus I'm not really ill.

It does mean that until my will power beats my physical being (shouldn't be long, I'm a stick with tits) I have a nose running a marathon at the pace of a hundred meter sprinter. With sneezes in place of hurdles. My head feels like mush. But it's not real.

I'm pretty sure that between thinking myself healthy and my mums theory of sweat-it-out my body will do as it's told in no time. In case you're wondering the sweat-it-out theory goes pretty much like this:
"Got a cold? Under the covers... Flu? Have a duvet... A bug? Up to bed... Broken leg? You know where to go."

So far nothing's proved her theory wrong as we've all been cured of our ails, but how much it had to do with sweating it out I don't know.

Other end of the scale: good things.

Sara and I got a cake. A chocolate cake. It was meant to be a two-month anniversary cake disguised as a Tuesday cake (to make sure I didn't commitment-freak), but it was 6 days late and became a Two-Month-And-Six-Days cake/Gay Cake. I haven't actually had any yet because when I came home I felt so rotten my mum made me try and sweat out be body rebellion with a 5 hour nap. It looks deliscious. In truth it may just be an excuse for our friend, call her Linda, to make a cake. I'm not complaining.

Other good thing. I made Sara smile despite the fact she had an awful migrane and was a fool to come to school. Still my handcuffs came with 2 keys. Today I gave one to Sara. Partially a good luck charm for all her exams and partially because I don't really get to see her for about a month now. She's got study leave and horses, her mum hates the sexual predator (me), you do the maths. But now she has a constant reminder of me hanging round her neck. In case she you know, forgets about me. Or something more plausable.