Sick.

[valarltd]

As a dog. I nearly lost my cookies at work, so went home (pausing twice by the parking lot gutter to ensure I didn't ruin my van's upholstery).

Going to bed at 6:30 PM means that after you wake up at 10:30 for a trip to the can and a drink (and an empty ice-cream bucket), you can't get back to sleep.

I desperately need to sleep.
I have to mail crap tomorrow, go by Obi's school and explain why my child cannot write an essay that meets state benchmarks (um, he thinks differently and y'all have ignored him because he's quiet and doesn't make trouble? Also? The benchmarks are nonsense to those of us who actually think and don't plod through step by step), and I have class at 10 AM.

So i sit here: head aching, tummy churning and throat clenching every time I yawn. Even the smell of detergent from my nightgown is nauseating me.

Comments

D-Man Comments

[(Anonymous)]

When one is ill, trivial things about the world leave little impact sometimes, and even the obvious might escape our suffering senses:

There are 31 days in January, not just 30, hence you are not in February just yet...

If the smell of detergent permeating your nightie is making you even more ill... take off the wretched thing & go natural for a time so long as there's nobody about to notice and/or complain about nudity.

Sorry to learn you are not feeling at all well.
D

Re: D-Man Comments

[valarltd.livejournal.com]

Au contraire. I made the post shortly after midnight and I am an hour ahead of you.
Even in your locale it is now Feb 1. Only about 20 minutes into it, true.

I don't date the posts. LJ does it for me, and the AI has yet to be wrong.