rejectomorph (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rejectomorph) wrote2004-04-17 04:34 am
rejectomorph) wrote2004-04-17 04:34 am
Cold Night
Ideas knocking around in my head, which is often the case when I'm a bit feverish. I also have a sense of pressure in my ears and a lightheadedness which I get when infected with some virus. I let the room cool down long enough to run Sluggo for a few minutes, but will have to warm it up again soon. There's too much to be done around here, so I can't afford a serious illness. But I'm not going to do any more work than is essential today, or tomorrow, either. Well, maybe a bit more compulsive tidying.
The night is surprisingly cold, especially considering that the clouds did not entirely dissipate tonight. I see a few stars, but mostly I see clouds, which glow faintly despite the absence of moonlight. There is more light from the ground here every year, and fewer trees to block it.
I am craving coffee, which is another thing that happens when I am coming down with a cold. Of course, I dare not drink the stuff at this hour. I'd like to smell some brewing, though. The scent, a skeleton key to memory, would be sure to drag me from the present moment. Even thinking about it tugs me to other times. But no, I won't write about them now. I must shut down the computer and warm the room, and get some sleep -- in a bed for the first time in days, but in a bed without a cat sharing it for almost the first time in many years.
The night is surprisingly cold, especially considering that the clouds did not entirely dissipate tonight. I see a few stars, but mostly I see clouds, which glow faintly despite the absence of moonlight. There is more light from the ground here every year, and fewer trees to block it.
I am craving coffee, which is another thing that happens when I am coming down with a cold. Of course, I dare not drink the stuff at this hour. I'd like to smell some brewing, though. The scent, a skeleton key to memory, would be sure to drag me from the present moment. Even thinking about it tugs me to other times. But no, I won't write about them now. I must shut down the computer and warm the room, and get some sleep -- in a bed for the first time in days, but in a bed without a cat sharing it for almost the first time in many years.