Yes, I did just write an entry not too long ago. I feel it necessary to write that I'm not going to class tonight. Why? Because I feel like a piece of ass rolled over on the highway. I'm fucking exhausted. I may try to take a nap later, but there's no gaurantee that I'll sleep more than five minutes at a time. This is the worst cold I've had in years. This ranks right up there with my annual bronchitis.

I know I should go to class, since I haven't really gotten a feel for them yet... But, ultimately, it would be pointless because I'd be propping me head up on my backpack and prying my eyelids open with my fingers to look awake. I have no appetite, and even if I did, I can't taste anything. So, I'm sleep deprived and running on empty. I feel like my head might meet the monitor any moment now.

I should make some tea.

I hate being sick. Hate hate hate. At least I haven't had a fever yet. Those are always fun. Nothing like talking to yourself and your hallucinations until someone finds you and tells you to take a cool shower. Ooh. A shower sounds good right now.

The odd little cyst-thing in my jaw which I've had probably all my life always swells when I'm sick. It must be either a misplaced gland or an alien tracking device which warns the aliens not to pick me up right now because I am diseased. Whatever. It's not visible to the naked eye. Only I know where it is, because I can feel it.

*runs off to make tea*

Ahh... tea. Tea is good. I can't taste it, but it's warm.

Class started... 6? minutes ago. Shoot. Well, who knows? Maybe I can muster enough energy to go to the 5 o'clock class.

o_O I just took a hit off this strange inhalent dicongestant... woo... funky. An inhaler for the nose.

Nothing much I can do now but stare at the speakers of my stereo. I might be getting a fever. Dammit. I can't tell. I am starting to go a little silly (nothing unusual there, really), but this might be from lack of sleep. I do not want a fever. I am all alone right now, and I get very scared when my brain is melting (who doesn't).

Let's travel back in time to my last severe fever, shall we?

It was only a hanful of years ago. It was Saturday. There was an employee meeting that morning at the theater at which I worked. I didn't have my driver's license yet and had no one to take me to the meeting. Me, being the moron that was and still am, took my car (which I had bought for myself and was learning how to drive in) and drove to the meeting. No problems. Dull corporate crap meeting. Drove home. No problems. Once home, I had the house to myself. Dad was already at work. And then my brain started to boil inside my skull. Within thirty minutes or so, I was thorougly freaking out and crying at the ceiling. I was lying on the living room floor and babbling to myself. I don't remember much else. My dad found me a few hours later, scooped me back onto the couch, and called my work to tell them I wouldn't be in that night. He was too worried about getting me cooled down to lecture me about driving without a license. Heh. The rest of that day is a blur. All I really recall is being hysterical and flipping out that I was alone. My brain was so fried that there were times I thought I was either dead or dying and no one was there to find me. Fun times.

I am feeling a little freakish now, but I assure you that if I start shivering, I'll go jump in the shower post haste.

Ooh, or maybe I could record the transition into fever madness!

At the moment: it's hot in here. I am fully clothed, right down to my socks. I have a fan on. Not shivering yet but feel cool. I'd guess the temp is 85, since the AC is on. I want a blanket. No... I don't want a blanket. I refuse to have a fever. You hear me? Refuse! There. That written, I can go on about my merry way. Brandybuck. Merry. Secret Agent Hobbit. With his faithful sidekick, Pippin Took AKA Pip-to-the-mutha-fuckin-pin.

Goosebumps.

My beloved, do you know how many times I stared at clouds thinking that I saw you there?

It's now 4:30pm, and I have drunk a whole lotta tea. Tea is good. I like tea. Luzianne is bomb-ass tea. I like Luzianne. Grant me wings that I might fly. Eep. The Nazgul are after me.

It's alright. I'm still sane. Just tired. o.O. Slap-happy. 95 mutha-fuckin' dolla's for two books. And one was used! FUCK YOU, ACADEMIA!

Have I mentioned the huge fucking ugly ass pants my mother bought me? They were those oh-so-fashionable (facist) capri things. And they were white. I held them up and imagined a kid flying them in the park like a kite. But I tried them on to humor her. They came down to my fucking ankles. They looked like high-waters, not capris. Not only that, but I could have grown an evil twin and there still would have been room for another inside these "pants." I let go of the belt-loops, let the thing drop to the floor, opened the bathroom door, and hurled the thing down the hall in my mother's general direction. Now, I'm not sure what size my mother thinks I wear... but good gawd, what the fuck? I knew her eyesight was bad.... Or maybe she doesn't have a high opinion of me. Who knows? I politely told her, "They're just a tad FUCKING big, Mommy," and added under my breath, "even for Shamu."

Bless her. She really tries (to buy my affection).

Woo. My voice sounds strange. I'm trying to sing along with Boy George on the 80's channel.

I'm a man... YOU'RE A MAN?!

Sorry... Beavis and Butthead flash back.

There's a puddle of gray fur on my bed. Morg, she-beasty and destroyer of carpet! Hey, where's the other one? Ah, he was hiding.

I think I'll go take a shower. *stares at stereo* Rod Stewart, I think you're sexy and I want your body. eww. No.

____

Feel much better. Yes, "Owner of a Lonely Heart" is on. I dig it. I've been writing this entry for almost 2 hours now.

Owner of a lonely heart
Owner of a lonely heart
Much better than a
Owner of a broken heart

I remember the video for this song.

I should probably put some clothes on now, but this towel feels good. Good, I tell you!

I'll have to agree with Kuroiko on the 9-11 media extravaganza. Fuck a bowl of that and some fried chicken. Watching a "Time and Again" about the LA riots was depressing enough. 52 people died over a cracked out guy refusing to stay on the ground and the cops were morons enough to just beat away on him like he could feel it. The cops were in the wrong. The second jury said so, didn't they? It's a double edged sword, really. Lots of ifs and should-haves. Hell, if I were hopped up and driving like a bat out of hell, who knows what I'd do if I were pulled over. Since I'm female, cops would probably just let me crawl around on the ground for a while 'til finally cuffing me and hauling me away. Even the dumbest cops.

I like most cops. But, you have to admit, they aren't all happy-to-be-alive heroes behind bright badges. Keeps the law balanced, doesn't it? o.O

Fuck it, I'm gonna try that nap thing before my head explodes.

currently: still sick

*listening to VNV Nation, Empires*

This Cockass at work never ceases to amaze me with his condescending bullshit. Ya know, if he weren't there... the job might just be bearable. Ugh, I fuckin' hate him.

I bought some of my books today. $95 for two books. Not... going... to... hurt... anyone...!

I did hang out with Toni for a while last night. I was medicated. We were watching Harry Potter when the meds started to wear off. As soon as it was over, I left. I hate feeling like crap, but then, who doesn't?

Maybe it was just being sick and grumpy, but I thought Harry Potter sucked ass. And I still have no desire to read the books.

The decongestants I took have dried out my head, but the cold has moved into my chest. Breathing is just lovely. And the sleep I got last night was miserable, too. And I'm dehydrated. And the stars are out to get me! Eep.

Two classes tonight. >_<

I hope I don't work with Cockass tomorrow. Just upon seeing him, I want to throw whatever is handy at his head. The prick.

Must maintain non-psychotic look... wait, I'm at home. Screw that. *leer leer twitch*

That is all I have to write, it seems.

I had a bizarre dream about Super Mario, the theater where I worked, beating up some redhead that had locked me in a box, Lonelyfox redecorating my mother's room at her house and wanting to turn her pillows into Snoopy dolls, not to mention a bunch of other nonsensical shit. And that was all in one dream. The beating up of the girl was particularly disturbing. From what I remember, she was some sort of bully/brat, and she had locked me in an elevator-sized box. I broke out of it and stormed over to what was once the movie theater I worked in years ago. It was in shambles. (It's not really, but it was in the dream.) I was asking some people around there if they had seen her, when she walks out of one of the box-offices. She's a frail thing compared to me and has very curly red hair. I grab her by the collar and slam her on the ground. I end up repeating this many times rather than just hitting her. I'm straddling her, yanking her up, and slamming her on the concrete again and again. All the while, saying something like "Why'd you do that to me? How humiliating..." After I finally lose interest in this, I stand up and see Puppy (Lonelyfox mentioned earlier) and decide to follow him into the theater.

What a fuct up dream. But it's no surprise I had such a warped dream. I went to bed around 3am and woke up at 6am because this cold is EVIL. I was so congested that I could hardly breathe. Try as I might to fall back asleep, it was no use. I was sneezing every 2 seconds. So, I got up and took a hot shower. Tried to sleep again. Still no luck. Got up again and found some cold medicine for congestion. Took that and went back to bed. I don't remember when I fell back to sleep, but I think it was after 8am. Woke up several times here and there but actually got out of bed not too long ago. Stupid cold. Grr. Feels like a giant marshmellow is pressed against the inside of my face, preventing me from breathing. Ugh. Great, here comes the sneezing again.

I'm going out with Toni tonight after she gets off work. We're thinking dinner and a movie.

I didn't go anywhere last night because everyone else called off. Not that I minded ^_^ since I talked to Rask instead. For a little while, anyway.

Oh, and Rob is moving to Arizona to be with his old hag permanently. Who'd have thunk it? He's actually closer in age to the hag's daughter (9) than he is to her. Creepy. But whatever makes ya happy, I suppose.

I got to wondering... whatever happened to my married coworker that hit on me from noon til night? Last I heard, he'd moved to Nebraska. Wonder how his marriage is going.

Well, enough rambling for now.