2003-10-25 - 1:48 a.m.

I'bm sick.

And I don't really mind it all that much. It's a part of life--the whole if every day were but a holiday kind of thing.

And no, it's not a free day off watching cartoons kind of thing--that's not really an option right now, and agian, that's ok.

I mean, it's annoying as all hell. Things that are usually easy making me outta breath. Trying to stay the hell away from people lest I infect them. That swollen-head feeling, and snots everywhere, and I can't control that cough (but I have an excuse to stop listenig to someone as I get outta the way), and I'm either cold or hot, and sighing all the time like I'm pissed at people but really I'm just tired.

But I know it'll be over soon, and it's fun to head down to the Blue Shirt and get the carrot-orange-ginger-lemon-garlic drink that costs more than my lunch usually does, and drink it in at Davis, glad to have it even though it tastes horrible and even though I'm allergic to raw carrots.

And it's fun to be in a daze all day and for the most part be forgiven. You can make words not make sense that you say when you're not paying attention that you say them.

Being sick is also the most tolerated form of being intoxicated in public. I'm breathing heavily all the time and jerking my head around wildly, sniffling like I have some white white powder above my lip, brain temperature 102 degrees, and that comfortable, and in an uneasy way, satisfaction in sitting, in being still, in resting my bones, and the sky is prettier.

Sick when it's brisk out, best time to be sick. Sneezing in my hands and heading to the bathroom to wash them, and I can name the person who coughed and coughed and coughed in close proximity to me and I couldn't get away 'cause I was at work, but I won't, but I sometimes do.

But it's chilly out and I'd rather be walking bundled sick under a blustery sky than... wait... wait... wait... ab-CHIB!.