Ookings of d00m

I find myself thinking far too seriously about difficult it would be to build either a sedan chair or a rickshaw. Because, that way we could carry around mycrazyhair at Kaleidoscope and other fun events she hasn't the spoons to go to!

Surely all I'd need is an Ikea armchair, some bolt on rings and wooden dowels...

I am definitely sick - the fever has started in earnest now, in addition to the constant gut issues. This is definitely what Lizard has. So at least we know it's not an ulcer - yay?

I am amused and annoyed that the biggest issue in getting sick for me is that I don't think I can justify going to the gym tonight.

Last night, I may have slightly overdid it at the gym. No injury, but I'm still feeling wiped and shakey the next day. This meant I was pretty tightly wound and cranky last night (apologies to the stich and bitchers who had to put up with me being surly while ironing).

I broke two sewing machine needles sewing the belt loops on the utility belt before I figured out what not to do.

Around 11, as I was finishing up the sewing, I heard from outside somewhere and angry, at least slightly drunken male voice scream "Shut the god damned door!", followed by the clear sound of a slap, skin on skin, and an adult female voice shouting "Ow!" I went out on the balcony to try to figure out where the sound was coming from, but I couldn't hear anything else.

This morning, there was a note up in the elevator about a man trying to get into our building, having threatened someone who wouldn't let him in that he'd "be back".

Some days, I think I don't own enough weaponry.

Nine times out of ten, mocha means "chocolate with some coffee flavouring". The other time, it means "chocolate with condensed, highly caffinated coffee in it". Guess which of the two the mocha cake I had with dinner last night was? Guess who didn't sleep last night? Guess who has a screaming liver, an upset stomach and a headache now?

Whoops. I'd been drinking when we got to dessert, and ddin't figure it out until, gaving spent all night tossing and turning, my heart started pounding like a jack hammer (though it's actually only going at 75 instead of its usual 60 bpm). My hands are shaking. Argh.

Reminder to self: NEVER eat mocha cake. EVER.

Me != smart.

Last Friday, I did lower body at the gym. I had a great time, pushed myself, etc. So, my legs were sore. As usual, two days later, they hurt like hell. I also noticed that my back was sore, but it seemed like part of the package. Today, the legs are mostly better. The back, however, is much worse. I've had to cancel my plans for today because I can't move well enough to put pants on, let alone drive. So now I am sitting in my chair sweating like crazy - I suspect the heat is making it worse. My lovely lizardlove is gone to get me robaxacet, and possibly ice cream. I am loved. And also a dumbass. Ow.

Brainfart. I thought, somehow, that banks would be open today so that I could get change to do laundry with. Apparently, I was wrong. Since I didn't do laundry last week, this could get... dire. *eyes ruffly shirts that are /technically/ within dresscode for work*

On the plus side, Mennonite bacon and french toast for breakfast!

Home from Savage Garden. Pleasantly, the more I exercise, the less my leg hurts - no pain at all at the moment.

I went and danced almost entirely non-stop for close to three hours. As is normal for nights when I don't arrange specifically for it, I didn't speak to anyone between the time I left work and, well, now, except to order drinks or give instructions to the cab driver. Savage was strangely empty tonight - I can only assume that there was something else exciting going on that I didn't know about.

I was crashing at 10:30 when I was getting ready, and so I had a diet coke, with two shots of 151 to ameliorate the effects of the caffeine while keeping me standing. The rum's all gone (but WHY is the rum gone!?) and the caffeine endures. I danced hard enough that I eventually *stopped* sweating, so now I am drinking water so that I can get hydrated so that I can drink alcohol so that I can sleep at some point.

I feel good. The music what what I wanted and needed, and I hit the right mix of chemicals in my system when I was there. Intellectually, I know that I should not try to stay up straight through to tomorrow night. We shall see how that works out. Now to go find food/drink and water.

good ideas:

• making beef barley soup


• making baked apples


• putting both in covered containers


• reducing the leftover liquid form the baked apples to a syrup

bad idea:

• reducing the syrup in a pyrex pan, thinking that frequent stirring and moving of the pan would be enough to keep the pan from exploding. I'd like to blame alcohol for this decision, but I suspect I would have mde the same call sober. Now, to find out where that blood is coming from while I wait for the glass to cool enough to dispose of.

almost a good boyfriend...

(edit: no glass seems to be embedded anywhere on my body, so no injuries are serious, except to the pan.)