I woke up and felt like death. I haven't exercised in the past week and ate a lot. I woke up and realized I'd slept through a class, and all I really wanted to do was go swimming. It's winter, I want to be somewhere warm and steamy where I can forget that it's winter. I want something to wash out my dried out insides. I want for my back to quit aching (work out! it cries).
I emailed Wales because I couldn't afford a transatlantic telephone call.
I'm fighting the slow but strong urge to climb back into bed.
I don't agree with winter. Every winter is a violent argument that I tend to lose. I rant irrationally, I forget about logic. Won't! Winter rolls its eyes. Winter is sharper than I am. I feel dull and cloudy, or like dried up chalk. I always forget how badly I deal with winter. It's the light, you know. I feel like I should only be awake during daylight hours. I always want to die during winter (It's scary, you know, but it's true - even though I laugh, and even though life is very funny and fine). Preferably in a very warm fashion. I feel like death.
Oh, it's always a horrible thing to tell people. I'm fine, truly, but it doesn't change the fact that I feel like death.
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