My head...
STILL REALLY FUCKING HURTS!
My right eye socket is numb. I literally feel like my eye has been bathed in novocaine. It feels kind of cool but the rest of my head feels like it's been hit with a hammer while full of snot. Particularly the point of impact, just behind my right ear.
Allow me to explain - I fell down about this time last night and hit my head very badly on our dear Prez's couch arm. The impact was loud enough that said Prez heard it across the room. WILL heard it and he's deafer than I am. Which is pretty damn deaf. Okay. Now that we have established that I am an idiot, let me move on to the OTHER idiots.
By this, I mean my mother. She did not believe I was hurt. I come STAGGERING in at 2:30 in the fucking morning, holding onto the side of my head.
On a side note, Miss Zoe found a freezer-burned pig part - I have no idea what kind of pork piece it was - so I had been holding a chunk of frozen pig to my head.
My mom saw me come staggering in - now porkless - to the kitchen and basically told my friends to shove off. She believed that I was bullshitting to avoid getting in trouble for missing my midnight curfew. Alright, by this point, I do not care whether or not I even HAVE a curfew. All I care about is making it through the night so I can break it AGAIN! Okay... That was not actually what I was thinking - just the part about making it through the night.
So I get bitched at all the way to my room. My mom insists that I "have no idea how to conduct my own life". It was only later that I came up with a decent retort. I forget what the decent retort was. I remember it had something to do with an orchestra. I woke up this morning thinking "What the fuck was I saying about an orchestra?"
After staring blearily at my computer screen, at which point I may or may not have asked Kaiser to call me, I ended up on the phone with Kaiser. I really have no clue if I asked him to call me or not. Reason says that since he did call me, I probably asked him to, but my memory itself fails me. He could only stay on the phone for a little while. I know I assured him that I would be fine, but I was getting very sleepy and so was he. This is well and good for him, because it is now probably around three in the morning and he is not nursing a mild concussion. So, worried about me like the decent gentleman he is, he instructed me to call Jareth, which I did.
I do not remember anything about that conversation other than the word "orchestra". But apparently, when injured, I spout poetry and say things that are not very coherent - sometimes at the same time. Jareth was more worried about the poetry. I suppose I can understand this - half the time, even I don't find my own speech comprehensible. He also said that I, at one point, spoke to someone named Derek. I have a bleary soundclip in my head of me saying this name in a very sleepy voice. This is the point where my memory stops completely. I'm sure Jareth may post details in a comment.
My head still hurts. I may have been about to continue explaining exactly how my head FEELS right now, but my word-producer-thingy is going on el fritzo and my right eye is going blurry again.