You might've mentioned I might be getting sick. Would've explained a lot. All that sleep and aching. Lack of interest in, well, almost everything. The muddle--I've been so confused, so slow to process. Overwhelmed. And emotional. Babysat for a friend yesterday and wanted to cry with the baby. Did. The sneezing. The tiredness in my face, red eyes. Then the telltale chills and the fever this morning on waking in the living room because that's where I decided to lie down for a bit around six last night. Then the mind saying, ah this again, but it's not so bad, this we know what to do with. Of course I'm relieved it's just a cold and not me losing my mind. --Only Herman arrives today and I've yet to wash sheets and towels for him and to finish making room in the bedroom. And I don't want him to get sick. And class begins tomorrow. There is that, too. Well, so let's go boil some water and slice open a lemon. That's what my mother would do.
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Wish I could be there. Been a long time since I partied at Hotel Congress. And I want my own Spork.
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Fuck this makes me sad. Stabbed in the heart sad.
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