(no subject)

[toomanyvests.livejournal.com]

I hate being sick.  Hate it.

Comments

[kskyline.livejournal.com]

It's the worst. Just drink.

[zizes-schmizes.livejournal.com]

[Gleefully] Does this mean we're getting a substitute? I mean ... oh no, Mr. Schue. Feel better soon.

[toomanyvests.livejournal.com]

Thank you, Lauren, for the well wishes.

[lormenari.livejournal.com]

I hate it too. When I'm sick my mom won't make anything but chicken soup, and her soup is really, really bad.

[toomanyvests.livejournal.com]

Soup? I'll eat soup.

[lormenari.livejournal.com]

I would get you some of my mom's, but it's not good. Even when you're sick. I'm sure you've got someone else who could bring you something better, right, Mr. Schue?

[toomanyvests.livejournal.com]

There's Campbell's in the cabinet by the fridge.

[lormenari.livejournal.com]

That's not so bad. You need someone to make it for you?

[toomanyvests.livejournal.com]

[Thumbs up and another round of blowing his nose.]

[lormenari.livejournal.com]

[Sam dumps the soup into a pot and heats it up. It's a little weird being in Mr. Schue's house, but he stopped by to drop off an extra late Spanish assignment (and he really hopes Mr. Schue doesn't knock an entire letter grade off for lateness, because he thinks it's a C at best). He's here anyway, and Mr. Schue looks pretty sick, so he guesses he can stay for a minute. He calls out his next question.] Do you want me to, like... bring this to you? Like, in your bedroom or whatever? [He's never been in Mr. Schue's bedroom. He's never been in any of his teacher's bedrooms. This is weird.]

[toomanyvests.livejournal.com]

If you don't mind. [Considering Quinn and Rachel have both been in his house under stranger circumstances, this is normal for him.] I can't get up without feeling dizzy.

[lormenari.livejournal.com]

Okay, sure. [Sam finds a bowl and a spoon, then carries the soup carefully into the bedroom. He belatedly realizes he probably should've looked around for a tray so it'll be easier for Mr. Schue to eat.] Um, I can go... look for a tray... or something.

[toomanyvests.livejournal.com]

No, that's fine. I'll sit up and eat it. [He pushes himself up, sitting back against the pillows and running his hand through his sweat soaked hair.]

[kskyline.livejournal.com]

It's the worst. Just drink.

[zizes-schmizes.livejournal.com]

[Gleefully] Does this mean we're getting a substitute? I mean ... oh no, Mr. Schue. Feel better soon.

[toomanyvests.livejournal.com]

Thank you, Lauren, for the well wishes.

[lormenari.livejournal.com]

I hate it too. When I'm sick my mom won't make anything but chicken soup, and her soup is really, really bad.

[toomanyvests.livejournal.com]

Soup? I'll eat soup.

[lormenari.livejournal.com]

I would get you some of my mom's, but it's not good. Even when you're sick. I'm sure you've got someone else who could bring you something better, right, Mr. Schue?

[toomanyvests.livejournal.com]

There's Campbell's in the cabinet by the fridge.

[lormenari.livejournal.com]

That's not so bad. You need someone to make it for you?

[toomanyvests.livejournal.com]

[Thumbs up and another round of blowing his nose.]

[lormenari.livejournal.com]

[Sam dumps the soup into a pot and heats it up. It's a little weird being in Mr. Schue's house, but he stopped by to drop off an extra late Spanish assignment (and he really hopes Mr. Schue doesn't knock an entire letter grade off for lateness, because he thinks it's a C at best). He's here anyway, and Mr. Schue looks pretty sick, so he guesses he can stay for a minute. He calls out his next question.] Do you want me to, like... bring this to you? Like, in your bedroom or whatever? [He's never been in Mr. Schue's bedroom. He's never been in any of his teacher's bedrooms. This is weird.]

[toomanyvests.livejournal.com]

If you don't mind. [Considering Quinn and Rachel have both been in his house under stranger circumstances, this is normal for him.] I can't get up without feeling dizzy.

[lormenari.livejournal.com]

Okay, sure. [Sam finds a bowl and a spoon, then carries the soup carefully into the bedroom. He belatedly realizes he probably should've looked around for a tray so it'll be easier for Mr. Schue to eat.] Um, I can go... look for a tray... or something.