Sickly.

2002-09-20 - 5:37 a.m.

I'm feeling that urge to start writing, yet again.

I am also feeling a cold coming on. I had hoped to postpone it until my work shifts were done, so that I could have two or three days with no responsibility, where I could curl up and wish for death in peace.

Instead, I have to wonder if I'll make it to the gym, if I'll make it to work (which, of course I must do, as there is no one else who will be able to work my shift. As a consequence, I have decided that I will do a minimum of work if I'm feeling crappy.). I'm already feeling needlessly whiny, and to top it off, Pookie is going on a school camping retreat, so I will have to suffer alone, and then go to work and do stuff.

I am such a baby.

And, I realise now, that sending e-hugs or whatever is no good. I appreciate it, but if one more person "sends" me tea with lemon or honey or whatever...I'll do nothing, because I can't really close my eyes and pretend the computer doesn't exist without looking silly...but I won't feel any better. At least until after.

Man, I'm a freakin' grumpy bastard when I'm getting sick.

This entry probably has no actual shape or form. I want to curl up under the desk.

Cheers,

The Magus

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