I don't wanna go!

Mood: utterly terrified
Listening: Linkin Park - No More Sorrow
Reading: (or trying to, anyway) Jean M. Auel's The Clan of the Cave Bear

Why me!?!? *cries and sobs uncontrollably*

There aren't a lot of things that can reduce me to a pathetic pack of sobs and scared moans, but needles are definitely top of that small list...

I HATE NEEDLES! Specially if the reason they penetrate my skin is to get my blood out of me... D'Arvit, it is MY blood!

My boss just called to tell me that I have to get a "Certificado Médico" which means that I gotta go to a hospital, get some tests— blood tests done and some government doctor will give a stupid sheet in which they stay whether or not I am able to work...

Criminy! I thought that when I left McDonald's, it'd be the end of those damn tests every six months, but it looks like the government likes to torture me... Apparently, you are supposed to have that stupid document wherever you work.

I'll try not to panic, but it is really hard for me to overcome that idiotic phobia of mine.

I'm off... and scared =(