i am so goddamn tired right now
I have spent until 2AM feeling nauseous and sickly. Have had nothing but two cans of ginger ale all day. Am irritated at a waste of a perfectly good Saturday. Almost contemplating calling out on Monday out of sheer irritated spite. I spent most of today reading humongous tons of Hunger Games fanfic and chatting on AIM, unfortunately not about Hunger Games. No one I know has even read this book series. It makes me sad.
Random poem today:
Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly
in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions
of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying
flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . .
How did it go?
How did it go?
Shel Silverstein, 'Forgotten Language'
I wish I was on a beach somewhere. A nice, secluded beach, with cool ocean breezes in my face and that clean ocean scent and not too much sun in the sky.
Random poem today:
Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly
in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions
of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying
flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . .
How did it go?
How did it go?
Shel Silverstein, 'Forgotten Language'
I wish I was on a beach somewhere. A nice, secluded beach, with cool ocean breezes in my face and that clean ocean scent and not too much sun in the sky.