Oh, stupid mono. You broadsided me. I had no idea you were coming, then BOOM! there you were. Because of you, I spent 13 days straight in bed, moaning for my mom. And because of your pesky pre-fever fatigue and lingering after-effects, I haven't spun anything at all in over a month. A month! That is cruel, mono.
Coming back from my Forks trip, I was on a spinny high. I was freshly inspired by all the wonderful, interesting, and even mind-blowing experiences, and all I wanted to do after I returned was to put my new knowledge to use, spinning feathers and cotton straight from the boll and long-draw bison. But you wouldn't let me. No. You caused me to fall asleep at 8 p.m. and just curl up on the couch on the weekends, missing get-togethers with my friends. Then you really had your way. A fever that spiked over and over again, horrible chills, fatigue that caused me to have to rest midway between the bedroom and the bathroom, malaise that caused me to miss graduations and barbecues and Josh's Swedish family being in town. That was you.
Stupid mono. I wish I could completely kick you out of town, but I understand that you hide in my body, biding your time until you feel like coming back. Well, I refuse. You are not allowed back. I will drink gallons of Emergen-C and Good Belly and will take mountains of vitamins to prevent you from barging in again. You are not wanted here.