I think I’m sick.
Slept ridiculously long times over the last few days. Days off, luckily. Last night I think I slept from 5 till 9 or so. Then from 12:30 until 12:30. And now it’s only 8:30 and I feel like I should have been asleep an hour ago. And more than that, but the details become foggy.
May have a fever. I don’t bother to check. Head pressure, like sinus trouble, headache, bodyache, like being sick. No nasal trouble, no cough, thankfully. No bleeding from the eyes or ears, which is nice.
Sore eyes, though.
Anyway. Been a bit off the last few days. Not feeling well. Not just sad, but sick, which I think makes sad feel much worse than it is. Chatted online with Sara this weekend. That was a good thing.
Had my fortune read in tarot cards the other night – not my idea, someone else paid the guy, I mostly just watched – and it looks like almost nothing he said relates to what’s happenning with me. Though that may be my fault. Whatever. I’m just trying to live my life normally. The most interesting thing to come out of that was just as the guy finished dealing my cards said something like “I’ve never seen the Death card be so positive before.” But I haven’t died yet, and today was supposed to be the day. Oh well. If tarot cards are to be believed, something splendiferous is supposed to happen tomorrow, on par with winning the lottery or finding true love, that sort of thing. Not holding my breath, but certainly keeping my eyes open.
I’m tired. I think I’ll crawl into bed soon. Hopefully I’ll feel better when I get up in the morning, so I can go to work and have a lovely envelope-stuffing day.
Here’s a secret: There is a NaNoWriMo meeting at my local Starbucks tomorrow night from 6-9, but I don’t think I’ll go. Due to scheduling, I ride the bus home from work tomorrow night, and that seems to get me home around 8PM. If I left home again without eating, I could walk there perhaps by 8:30. If I ate first, perhaps 8:45 or 9. If I took the car, I could probably eat and get over there by 8:30. But I never get writing done at those things, people are usually beginning to leave by then, and there’s a good chance I’ll still be feeling awful. SO. I’ll keep it in mind and see how I feel when the time comes, but I do not now expect to be in attendance.
Or to the one in Tempe after Thanksgiving. And who knows what my dad’s schedule will be by the 29th, for the final write-in, downtown? So. yeah.
And that’s about on-par with my expectations for writing for the rest of the month. But we’ll see.