Woke up this morning for my 8:30 AM class, looked in the mirror, opened wide, saw a lovely little white dot on my throat, got back into bed, slept until noon. Apparently the COF walk in clinic is at Wentworth and I'm not going there anytime soon. I'll pop by on my way home tomorrow. Home. Home is whenever I'm with you. So it goes.
Well Joseph is busy, I feel like crud, already wrote plenty this week. I think I'll pull a George Zografos and be wildly eccentric about what music I listen to. I'm feeling...albums that start with the letter "H". Also gonna tackle this collection of Hemingway short stories and hey, there's a hockey game on at 7. Not a bad gig.
It's not like I'll be doing a ton of this on the long weekend. I want to get a lot done on Cape. No freaking time to be sick...except today. Today is pretty all right...aside from swallowing being larger a task than it should be.
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