Sunday, September 11

[Count backward from a hundred]

I've just taken two tablespoons of Nyquil so there's no telling how far I'll get into this post before my hands feel tingly and I'll need to retire. All day I've felt what my mom would call the creeping crud. First it was my throat, growing more raw every time I would swallow. Then my eyeballs started to feel sick, if that makes any sense. And the sinuses. Oh, the sinuses. I'm always sniffling and sneezing at work (I think I'm allergic to my desk), but today the other symptoms made it worse. Ew. I imagine my body is reacting to the slight change in the weather, which has been deliciously mild here since bitch-slapping the Gulf coast.

Can anyone tell me the evolutionary purpose behind getting a cold every time the weather changes? Maybe it's just allergies. No matter. The Nyquil promises fuzzy, warm dreams, and that's good enough for me.

Howie is now a part of the household. We've decided he needs a real home and that his constant mewing while we're trying to sleep will eventually wear off once he establishes a nighttime routine. Now he's in my lap, clamoring for a backrub. I just wrote "backrum" because I'm happy to oblige. He's a lap cat, it seems, which I am not used to, having raised plenty of cats who only wanted to get close enough to me to tattoo my arms with scratches. And now his ass is in my face. That I'm used to.

I heard that MT lost its first game. I work with a UNT alumnus, but he wasn't around to gloat. I heard on the news the other night that MT will be play three basketball games against Memphis — two here and one in Middle Tennessee. I expect to see a crowd of slightly lighter-than-U-of-M-blue-clad folk in my living room around that time.

Let's see ... for my weekend I've yet again got modest plans. I owe all sorts of people phone calls. I think my phone might not be completely broken, but it's still kind of a pain to use. When it actually lets me dial, it occasionally drops calls without warning. I'd also like to get out to the Healing Fields display on Germantown Parkway. And then Monday I'm determined to get out and start looking for a new apartment. Yes, I'm getting a jump on it, but I want to see prospective places to live while there's still leaves on the trees. If I wait until December, everything is going to be ugly and depressing. It will be a daunting task, finding a place in this city to live alone. But I'm determined to do it right, so I want plenty of time to fret before I have to make a decision.

It's entirely possible that I'll spend most of my time this weekend watching season four of "Six Feet Under", which I broke down and bought during a weak moment two weeks ago. Well, what did you expect?

Ah, there's that tingle. Good night.


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