Vomitus Mundi, Or, At Least I'm Not Coughing Up Blood

May 23

Valuable Life Experience my ass.

Sunday, when I posted the last entry, I was fine. Then, at about 5 am on Monday, I woke with a noisome belly.

Yes. I caught what my girlfriend had. I called in sick to work and wretched my way through the day.

The thing I hate most about vomiting is the total subjugation of mind to body. While throwing up I can't think of anything; I'm nothing more than a mass of clenching meat. I mean, an argument can be made that there is no higher mind, that everything we do, no matter how complex, is simply a reaction to chemical changes in the body, but if that's the case it's usually more subtle, at least.

Plus, I've got a chest cold now, which took root during my weakened state. I can't even take deep breaths without it hurting, and the coughs...

Anyway. Enough disgusting stuff. I got a three day weekend, but not in an enjoyable way. By five in the afternoon yesterday I felt like I'd been punched repeatedly in the kidneys, then wrapped in a sack and rolled down a rocky slope. Bleah. But I'm better now. I went to work today (though I went in late), and woozily stumbled through the day. All's nearly well. I feel almost as good as new, especially after a yummy grilled-chicken dinner tonight.

I'm reading Lisa Goldstein's A Mask For the General now; it's really good so far. I've read three of her other books (and I'm looking forward to Dark Cities Underground), and I'm a fan. I found her writing a little hard to get into when I read The Dream Years, but the subject matter held me, and Strange Devices of the Sun and Moon totally won me over. I wouldn't be reading Lisa Goldstein if it hadn't been for Clarion; she came recommended highly.

Well, I could rant and rave about this and that, but I want to get some salable writing done tonight (unless you guys would pay to read these entries? But no, I wouldn't ask. That'd ruin the whole spirit of the thing. Not to mention wreck my blown-glass-fragile self esteem).

One last little thing; I went to my girlfriend's apartment tonight, and when I came in she said "I looked out the window just now and saw you in the parking lot. I didn't recognize you at first, and I thought 'What a cute boy!' Then I realized it was you."

I think that explains the nice warm fuzzy feeling I have now. It's a weird world; one day, you're huddled miserably on the bathroom tile, and the next you're the recipient of spontaneous compliments. Pretty lovely, hmm?