Wednesday, November 30, 2005

sigh. This is going to be a highly non-sequitur post. Not that I couldn't wrest structure from the nothingness if I put my guts into it... but I am a little too weary to try. The truth is, around 11 a.m. this morning, I began to sneeze. Then I began to cough. Then I began to get chills. *cough* Now I have a fever and rosy cheeks and a load of laundry in the dryer and a winning hockey team, and I just feel like ouch on a stick. That's right: ouch on a stick. *sniffle* After doing a small survey, I've come to realize that my personal sphere (people who know and love me) believes that I get sick continually because: I ignore physical stress, therefore maximizing the impact of the same I don't sleep enough -- not nearly I don't take in enough replenishing fluids I am cursed -- oh, cursed! Cursed like the cicada beneath the foot of the angry farmer! Okay, I think that last one was a joke, but I'm not completely sure. *achoo!* I do need to take better care of myself. But that goal is so easily lost in the daily flow of things. Suffice it to say, my mental processes are somewhat fragmented and compromised as a result of my waning physicality. That, and I forget what I was going to type every damn time I sneeze. I've gone through a series of posts I was going to write here: non-sicky, exhilarating, mentally taxing works of experimental prose, no less! But I'll save them for another day -- if only because they would most assuredly come out like gibberish, given my current state. *sneeze* So here are my thoughts for the night: Two quilts are better than one. We should all drink more water during the day. I always forget to do it, and LOOK! LOOK AT ME. Do you want to turn out like this? Be very, very afraid! Take up your Nalgene and walk! *cough* Buying Chuck's book is a vote for decency in the universe. He's the next Garrison Keillor, you know! He just doesn't know it yet. Nor does Garrison, for that matter. Reading Eric's blog is also a vote for decency in the universe. Not just because he's so funny, but because he's also freakishly bright and a lovely, lyrical writer with a huge dose of wit. And he sees whales daily. I'm just saying. *achoo!* My head is making creaking noises. Men! Go buy flowers for your wives/girlfriends/significant others! Not because you have to, but simply because you could! I don't know why I'm encouraging this, given that I have no flower givers remotely in my personal zone, but I think I could do with a few blooms. And ladies, if you think your boy might like a few zinnias or a nice gerbera, snag him a few! EVERYONE BUY FLOWERS FOR EVERYONE! It's Flower Day. I think I just decided that arbitrarily. The NyQuil must be kicking in. Pardon me. *sniffle* I need to find a book to read that will both inspire and sedate me. Does that make any sense? How in the blazes do you people choose nighttime reading? Whatever this is must depart by December 9th. I have decreed it thus. No virus may disobey my command! I need to buy some lip balm. Smith's Rosebud Salve or Philosophy 'Kiss Me', I think. My lips dry out like cacti when I get a cold. I could always go with something gleefully generic, but products that fit in my budget just don't seem to work. I'm not sure at what point I gave up on Chap Stick; probably somewhere around the time I realized had it all the smooth application value of a melted crayon. How did I ever lose my wallet? I swear, I check on it 50,000 times per day! Am I too West Coast for cowboy boots? Is that a duck outside my window? *cough* Do I really have to wear (non-cowboy) boots again tomorrow? I'm sorry, everyone. I'd say so much more of value -- on a more intellectually significant level, too -- if I could only form a notion in my head besides the prattle above. Many people are writing either significantly emotionally raw or totally hilarious things in my little blogging circle with now. I feel like I should ante up something equally as transcendent, but I'm being blocked on every front by Puff's tissues, lemon-honey tea and (apparently better than two!) three quilts. I think I need to succumb for the night. But that doesn't mean I don't love you. 11:35:25 PM    well, yes, but...  []

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