(no subject)

I'm still sick. I've had a long talk with my mother about it and a long talk with a friend about it and both tell me the same thing. I have already sent my apologies for tomorrow's meeting. I am taking all the right stuffs to improve life. If it doesn't go away by Tuesday then I'll see the dcotor, whether I like seeing the doctor or not. It's improving, though. I still have no vim or vigour, but the pain and nausea are definitely abating.

In the interim, though, my brain is still wandering somewhere strange. This is my excuse for finding all the light reading I haven't finished and working my way through it in a desultory fashion. I just read Women's Weekly from August 2007, for example. I think it was in one of my showbags and was hanging around because I couldn't decide what to do with it. Now it is read and in the recycling bag. One more odd magazine and I rather think I shall be left with back issues of the PMLA. This is fine, because tomorrow the friend who I consulted with is going to lend me loads of DVDs. Since I should be up to sitting up the whole day tomorrow and Monday (my, aren't I ambitious?) I intend to watch The House of Eliot and sew more Japanese lunchbaskets. I shall keep pen and paper by my side and start making lists of everything I need to do before Passover.

I ought to be frantic now. This is not the time of year for days of lazing around. I've been lucky, though: I worked till strange hours on Tuesday trying to get as much done as possible, just in case I came down with anything. I also did a bit on Wednesday night, just in case that fatigue that had hit led to me doing nothing but teach and rest on Thursday. Then Thursday hit.

Another thing of good luck. I had almost entirely packed for Thursday's teaching before I realised that I just wasn't going to make it out the front door. This means that all I have to do is make historic coffees and grab all those bags and baskets and I'm ready to go, next week.

PS I thought you needed to know the excitement that is my life. One day my posts will become more interesting again, I suspect. In the meantime, if you're bored, demand fridge magnets from me now and I'll post them on Wednesday.

(no subject)

Do any of you get viral morosity? A day or even two when life ought to be improving but when everything instead turns to tears and anger and ghosts and nightmares?

I've obviously turned the corner and am headed into normality, because I've hit that stage. I started tearful, and then other people started snapping at me and so I've decided to advance the ghosts so that I can recover faster. I thought that if I remembered the old blogpost I would get past it all by bedtime and maybe be saved the nightmares.

(no subject)

My week starts again, at midnight. I will it so.

My favourite socks (that girliejones made for me, that were my only handmade socks, that I loved so much I bought shoes to match - those socks) disintegrated. Moths must have got to them over summer. I thought I had rescued everything and put it out of the mothway in airless plastic (or the best simulacrum I could find) but my socks were hiding with my other socks and I just did a big sockwash because it's cold outside.

I must admit, the moths had taste. All my lesser socks were left well alone, no matter how much wool went into their making.

My week starts again, at midnight. And it will be much improved. If it's not, I swear I will break out those Medieval oaths again.