nixtress's Diaryland Diary

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Not that entertaining--I don't feel so hot.

I feel like crap. I'm functioning right now only because I have no real choice. Today is PayTheVultures day, therefore necessitating I piece out some bread to the car payment birds. Ryan is home still with his strep, ridiculously cheerful (I say that with a smile--if he's gotta be sick, it's cool he's a happy sicko).

I, on the other hand, feel grumpy and tired and cruddy. My head has decided to turn off the spigot of snot and horde it all now, giving me the stuffy head thing. I feel like I have a giant hairball stuck in my throat, causing me to clear it or cough every 2.289 seconds. I'm calling this all a headcold. I don't have time to be sick. Therefore, I'm not. I'm just getting my butt kicked by this thing I'm calling a cold.

In other news, it appears as if John Ritter and Johnny Cash have both died.

I remember asking my mother what gay meant after watching Three's Company once. And I remember my grandfather loving Johnny Cash, listening to him out in his garage/workshop, singing along. Sad day.

I kept waking up last night, every couple of hours, hearing the cats playing in the hallway. I'm not sure what kept waking me, but I had the strangest dreams...a result of the cold meds, maybe.

I'm off to curl up on the couch. Happy Friday all. Be safe.

N.

9:04 a.m. - 2003-09-12

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