Apr. 27th, 2003

rejectomorph: (Default)
Last night, about midnight, I began feeling queasy, and headachy, and my nose began running. I began dosing myself with aconite, and napped a bit, and I'm feeling better now, but not enough better to write anything. For about half an hour, I was pretty sure I'd end up worshiping Ralph, and then come down with one of those colds I get every five or six years. I still might, of course, but I'm still self-medicating, and that might prevent the dismal event. I really don't have time for a cold, and certainly have no desire for the mopey state in which having a cold puts me. Every few minutes I think that I feel a sneeze coming on, but it goes away. I have mixed feelings about that. No sneeze is a good sign, since it indicates that the virus is losing, for the moment. But feeling like you have to sneeze, and then not sneezing, is an extremely unpleasant experience. It's sort of like leaving the house and then being unable to remember if you shut off the water or the burner on the stove. Well, maybe one must have a touch of obsessive-compulsive disorder to feel that way about a failed sneeze.

Oh, but this rambling is a bad sign. It suggests that my brain is a bit more overheated than is normal. Time to take another dose and get to sleep. If I feel better when I wake up, then the cold probably won't happen. If I've developed more symptoms, then it's days of delirium ahead. When you get colds infrequently, they tend to be very, very vengeful colds! If you don't hear from me for a few days, or if my writing is even weirder than usual, that'll be what caused it. Mmm, five blankets again, I think. And a cat foot-warmer.
rejectomorph: (nagy)
Stiff joints, and a slight sore throat, and post-nasal drip. This is annoying. And yet another storm is moving in. I'd like to go for a walk, but I don't think I ought to risk the chill. It's very nice out there, though, with the scudding clouds and the cool breeze. I also want coffee. That's not right.

Last night, that odd searchlight I saw over the vicinity of downtown (such as it is) a couple of weeks ago was playing above a location southeast of here. When it was over downtown, it seemed plausible that it was advertising some event, but the location it came from last night is down in the canyon, and there's nothing there! Maybe witches were holding some pagan celebration in the woods, though I can't imagine why they'd want to advertise it with a searchlight. It might have something to do with the local celebration that is being held this weekend. Gold Nugget Days. Have the Clampers taken to holding raves along the banks of the Feather River? Who the Hell knows? That lot might get up to almost anything. Anyway, the searchlight was on until two in the morning, and no alien spacecraft landed, as far as I know. A mystery for my fevered brain to contemplate.

Hungry. Must go eat something and drink beer. Somebody is riding a go-kart up and down my street again. I'm confused. I wonder why we never hear of disgruntled hairdressers shooting up salons? That's got to be worse than the post office. And all those fumes! Damn, I just remembered I don't have a thermometer anymore, so I can't take my temperature. Time for another nap. Feed a cold, starve a fever. Decisions, decisions!

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