tired, but good book

Been sick have I, since last Friday. Nearly a week it has been. Better, feel I. Gone, the fever is. Antibiotics gotten today. Hopefully I'll go back to work on Monday. But for now, I'm still very very tired.

Yesterday was my little brother's 19th birthday. Older, this makes me feel.

This week has been uneventful, primarily because I have been ill. Didn't go out last weekend. Tried going to work this morning... had to leave after barely an hour. Didn't have the energy to do anything. Can't walk, file things away. Just plain exhausted. I'm not accustomed to the effects of a three-day fever. I don't get fevers often, and when I do, they normally last only a day. My body's worn out right now. I don't like it. I hate suddenly dropping into the nearest chair because my legs refuse to support my weight any longer. I'm not used to being drained enough to not even have energy for fidgeting. Hopefully the antibiotics will speed my recovery. Oy.

Finished reading My Antonia a couple days ago. My first book by Willa Cather. I enjoyed it very much. It was fresh, deep, and full of vivid nature imageries. Very real and potent and clear. I think someday I might want my own copy of it. Reading of Nebraskan summers also stirred a desire to see, and be in, a real Midwest thunderstorm, complete with green stormy clouds, breathtaking warm downpours, crazed flashing lightning, and thunder. Oh, the thunder! It just rolls and roils and breathes! Weather pleases me tremendously.

But now I must sleep. Sick person need sleep!

ooh bla dee!

My last post was unhappy. I was honestly miserable. Then Thursday turned around, and things got better. When Friday arrived, things got even more better. (Yes, I said "more better." It was intentional. Please forgive me, self.) Friday was very good. And those very same people I complained about? They made those days good. I spent time with them, and enjoyed myself immensely. So thanks to them. I have a nasty habit of underestimating them.

I also discovered a new wonderful kind of tea Friday: Jasmine green tea. It was good.

Both Sunday and Monday nights I got to play badminton again. We have a tendency to play until it is very dark. Until 9.45, when you can barely see the other people, much less the birdie. Then Monday night we also had a rubber-band fight. I like those. They are fun and simple, and vicious. I gave welts, received none. I'm a strange one.

And these evening, we had another steel jam session, and it pleased me. My brother was really tired, so he almost didn't want to go, but then afterwards he said he needed it. He felt much better. It's odd how you can feel more rested after expending energy, if you're playing music. It was one of those sessions that just felt right and good, and healing. It worked. I love it when that happens! Mmm, calypso.

So I am doing better? Yes. I still want more talking with people, more quality time. But life is not bad. In fact, I'm very glad I have it.

fireworks hatred

I should not have gone.

I didn't want to go. Why did I go anyway? I shouldn't have. Last year should have clued me in. That and all of my past: even when people are there, I'm alone. And the aloneness is made much less bearable by the presence of others. And I'm always alone around them. When will I learn?

It was too smoky for me to keep my eyes open, so I put a blanket over my head, closed my eyes, and waited for the fireworks to end. So I didn't see them. But there was still too much smoke. Now my eyes hurt, my lungs hurt, and once again I have deep regrets to add to my ever-growing pile.

I'm going to cry myself to sleep tonight.