This is going to be a highly non-sequitur post
Not that I couldn't wrest structure from the nothingness if I put my guts into it... but I am a little too weary to try.
The truth is, around 11 a.m. this morning, I began to cough. Then I began to sneeze. Then I began to get chills. *cough*
Now I have a fever and rosy cheeks and a load of laundry in the dryer and I just feel like ouch on a stick.
That's right: ouch on a stick. *sniffle*
After doing a small survey, I've come to realize that my personal sphere (people who know and love me) believes that I get sick because:
* I ignore physical stress, therefore maximizing the impact of the same
* I don't sleep enough -- not nearly
* I don't take in enough replenishing fluids
* I am cursed -- oh, cursed! Cursed like the cicada beneath the foot of the angry farmer!
Okay, I think that last one was a joke, but I'm not completely sure. *achoo!*
I do need to take better care of myself. But that goal is so easily lost in the daily flow of things.
Suffice it to say, my mental processes are somewhat fragmented and compromised as a result of my waning physicality. That, and I forget what I was going to type every damn time I sneeze.
I've gone through a series of posts I was going to write here: non-sicky, exhilarating, mentally taxing works of experimental prose, no less!
But I'll save them for another day -- if only because they would most assuredly come out like gibberish, given my current state.
*sneeze*
So here are my thoughts for the night:
Two quilts are better than one.
We should all drink more water during the day. I always forget to do it, and LOOK! LOOK AT ME. Do you want to turn out like this? Be very, very afraid! Take up your Nalgene and walk! *cough*
My head is making creaking noises.
Go buy flowers for your husbands/wives/girlfriends/boyfriends/significant others! Not because you have to, but simply because you could! I don't know why I'm encouraging this, given that I have no flower givers remotely in my personal zone, but I think I could do with a few blooms. EVERYONE BUY FLOWERS FOR EVERYONE! It's Flower Day. I think I just decided that arbitrarily. The NyQuil must be kicking in. Pardon me. *sniffle*
I need to find a book to read that will both inspire and sedate me. Does that make any sense? How in the blazes do you people choose nighttime reading?
Whatever this is must depart by December 9th. I have decreed it thus. No virus may disobey my command!
I need to buy some lip balm. My lips dry out like cacti when I get a cold. I could always go with something gleefully generic, but products that fit in my budget just don't seem to work. I'm not sure at what point I gave up on Chap Stick; probably somewhere around the time I realized had it all the smooth application value of a melted crayon.
Am I too West Coast for cowboy boots?
Is that a duck outside my window? *cough*
Do I really have to wear clothes again tomorrow?
Why do I not have a girlfriend to take care of me? WHY?! I need pampering when I'm sick, damnit.
I'm sorry, everyone. I'd say so much more of value -- on a more intellectually significant level, too -- if I could only form a notion in my head besides the prattle above.
Many people are writing either significantly emotionally raw or totally hilarious things in my tiny little blogging circle right now. I feel like I should ante up something equally as transcendent, but I'm being blocked on every front by Puff's tissues, lemon-honey tea and (apparently better than two!) three quilts. And one sleeping bag. And a sheet.
I think I need to succumb for the night.
But that doesn't mean I don't love you.
Not that I couldn't wrest structure from the nothingness if I put my guts into it... but I am a little too weary to try.
The truth is, around 11 a.m. this morning, I began to cough. Then I began to sneeze. Then I began to get chills. *cough*
Now I have a fever and rosy cheeks and a load of laundry in the dryer and I just feel like ouch on a stick.
That's right: ouch on a stick. *sniffle*
After doing a small survey, I've come to realize that my personal sphere (people who know and love me) believes that I get sick because:
* I ignore physical stress, therefore maximizing the impact of the same
* I don't sleep enough -- not nearly
* I don't take in enough replenishing fluids
* I am cursed -- oh, cursed! Cursed like the cicada beneath the foot of the angry farmer!
Okay, I think that last one was a joke, but I'm not completely sure. *achoo!*
I do need to take better care of myself. But that goal is so easily lost in the daily flow of things.
Suffice it to say, my mental processes are somewhat fragmented and compromised as a result of my waning physicality. That, and I forget what I was going to type every damn time I sneeze.
I've gone through a series of posts I was going to write here: non-sicky, exhilarating, mentally taxing works of experimental prose, no less!
But I'll save them for another day -- if only because they would most assuredly come out like gibberish, given my current state.
*sneeze*
So here are my thoughts for the night:
Two quilts are better than one.
We should all drink more water during the day. I always forget to do it, and LOOK! LOOK AT ME. Do you want to turn out like this? Be very, very afraid! Take up your Nalgene and walk! *cough*
My head is making creaking noises.
Go buy flowers for your husbands/wives/girlfriends/boyfriends/significant others! Not because you have to, but simply because you could! I don't know why I'm encouraging this, given that I have no flower givers remotely in my personal zone, but I think I could do with a few blooms. EVERYONE BUY FLOWERS FOR EVERYONE! It's Flower Day. I think I just decided that arbitrarily. The NyQuil must be kicking in. Pardon me. *sniffle*
I need to find a book to read that will both inspire and sedate me. Does that make any sense? How in the blazes do you people choose nighttime reading?
Whatever this is must depart by December 9th. I have decreed it thus. No virus may disobey my command!
I need to buy some lip balm. My lips dry out like cacti when I get a cold. I could always go with something gleefully generic, but products that fit in my budget just don't seem to work. I'm not sure at what point I gave up on Chap Stick; probably somewhere around the time I realized had it all the smooth application value of a melted crayon.
Am I too West Coast for cowboy boots?
Is that a duck outside my window? *cough*
Do I really have to wear clothes again tomorrow?
Why do I not have a girlfriend to take care of me? WHY?! I need pampering when I'm sick, damnit.
I'm sorry, everyone. I'd say so much more of value -- on a more intellectually significant level, too -- if I could only form a notion in my head besides the prattle above.
Many people are writing either significantly emotionally raw or totally hilarious things in my tiny little blogging circle right now. I feel like I should ante up something equally as transcendent, but I'm being blocked on every front by Puff's tissues, lemon-honey tea and (apparently better than two!) three quilts. And one sleeping bag. And a sheet.
I think I need to succumb for the night.
But that doesn't mean I don't love you.
Don't fret, your sickness will pass. When I'm sick I just do everything with sadness, thinking how much better the thing I'm doing would be if I were not ill. Then I forget what it's even like to be well. Saying that, I sit in freezing rooms and refuse medication when I'm not well so I ask for it myself.
I'm quite tired and waffling. Good night and take care none the less...
the parties
take care now