miserable

wow I am hardly sick and I'm glad I am hardly ever sick because I'm such a lousy whinebucket of fail when I am sick.

it's a good thing there's no one I can whine to atm! benefits of being a hermit. fuck. I'm going to curl up in my blankets and read a book and wait for this dumb medication to work. I'm tired of being tired get better already body no excuses!

glass figurines

I love reading, but I torture myself sometimes by having to get up every two minutes to look up a word in a dictionary. It wouldn't be so painful if I weren't so cold, of course, leaving my pile of blankets makes me want to weep like a stupid baby and whine about how my laundry is not yet done because I need my pants.

But I have learned at curio cabinets are pretty things (perhaps meant to hold pretty things). Also, making a note to myself to read this wikipedia article about window blinds. It's like an odd motivation, but sometimes I wish for every single thing to have labels - to know the specific names of things, like some amusing and comical super power you only see in movies where the super hero is walking down the street and labels pop out in multi-colour and a variety of font. *insert witty line about some inappropriately named things*


I'm reading A home at the end of the world by Michael Cunningham, and its been really good so far. It has a particular haunting quality about it, slow but not forgettable, curling into the recesses of my mind, as if waiting for something.

"This is what you do. You make a future for yourself out of the raw material at hand."