October 13th, 2005


Blargh I am dead

It's not even noon and I'm already falling asleep at my desk. I'm cold; my stomach acids are attempting to brutally conquer my chest and throat, and have apparently decided to enact a scorched earth policy; I have a horrible headache; and as near as I can tell, there's absolutely nothing wrong with me. No signs of being actually sick, just feeling incredibly bleh. I'm wearing a jacket indoors. I go barefoot in snow, and I'm cold in a climate-controlled building? Something's not right here.

Last night I felt too sick to sleep. I finally got to bed around 5:30, and slept until 9, giving me 10 minutes to get ready (Miranda gave me a ride -- she works 5 minutes from me -- so I got to leave at 9:10 instead of 7:50). So in addition to everything else I'm unshaven and smelly. Thank goodness for my beard -- it provides a sort of camouflage, allowing me to go a day without shaving without anybody noticing. This is handy, because this is not a bad approximation of the rate at which my facial hair grows (I'm the one on the right). It's extremely annoying -- some days I have to shave twice.

That's getting very off topic, though. Point of this post: blah blah blah whine whine whine sick sick sick. It's like my body and subconscious have gotten together and decided that my misery gland needs a workout or something. "Oooh, let's turn him into a public spectacle of juvenile self-pity! Then, just as it starts to wear off, let's prevent him from sleeping through the magic of acid!"
  • Current Mood
    sick sick