(no subject)

Another day, home sick. I slept most of the day away, in between bouts of watching Boston Med on Hulu and coughing. I'm intending to go to work tomorrow, and am hoping to make it through the whole day. I had so many things planned for these past five days, awesome things, and it stings a little bit to feel like I fell down on the job. At least I had some quiet time to learn how to use my new phone, right?

I'm restless, without being well enough to do anything about the restlessness. Light seems unsettled and anxious, and yesterday I lost my shit in the parking lot of Whole Foods (my one out-of-the-house venture since Wednesday). The cats yell too much, my house smells funny, and I feel like I have the best of intentions without any followthrough.

Life seems like it should feel like it's going well. My tattoo's done, I go to the gym, I'm putting the framework a ten-year plan in place. In two months, I might even get a dog. I've got neat people in my life, neat plans, an awesome house and I still have a purple couch.

But really, all I'm feeling at the moment is a strong desire to request that November go fuck itself.

Back to my stupid book and my fuzzy blanket, I guess. It's possible there's going to be yet another cup of mintmagic tea in my immediate future as well. Or a stupid video game.

(no subject)

Another day, home sick. I slept most of the day away, in between bouts of watching Boston Med on Hulu and coughing. I'm intending to go to work tomorrow, and am hoping to make it through the whole day. I had so many things planned for these past five days, awesome things, and it stings a little bit to feel like I fell down on the job. At least I had some quiet time to learn how to use my new phone, right?

I'm restless, without being well enough to do anything about the restlessness. Light seems unsettled and anxious, and yesterday I lost my shit in the parking lot of Whole Foods (my one out-of-the-house venture since Wednesday). The cats yell too much, my house smells funny, and I feel like I have the best of intentions without any followthrough.

Life seems like it should feel like it's going well. My tattoo's done, I go to the gym, I'm putting the framework a ten-year plan in place. In two months, I might even get a dog. I've got neat people in my life, neat plans, an awesome house and I still have a purple couch.

But really, all I'm feeling at the moment is a strong desire to request that November go fuck itself.

Back to my stupid book and my fuzzy blanket, I guess. It's possible there's going to be yet another cup of mintmagic tea in my immediate future as well. Or a stupid video game.