(no subject)
This year has been quite interesting. I'll have to write about it sometime. But Christmas was a gentle anti-climax. After much fretting over presents for tiny nephew and even tinier niece, it turns out I was too ill to visit the family, so I stayed in Oxford. My first Christmas in Oxford! It's been so very dull!
Too ill to do much of anything, I had a quiet one, mostly in bed or reading, token coughs here and there. It was my third major downtime due to "flu-like symptoms" this year. Lemsip was interesting the first time, but I soon hated the side effects. The most exciting bit being a drive to look at the windmill in Brill. Doctor Who on a projector held promise, but the experience wasn't quite as thrilling as it might have been.
I envy yous who had little parties and made them sound like fun.
Two weeks of flutime has given me plenty of time to comtemplate life and such. I came to the same realisation I often come to: I'm not happy doing what I'm doing, and whatever it is isn't good for my health either. Still full of quiet loathing and gloom, still finding my heart isn't in anything, that the grass elsewhere doesn't look any greener, and still worried that I can barely manage an ordinary amount of work without getting utterly weary, let alone enjoy myself, do fun things, or shine in any way.
I don't know of anything happening on New Year's. I feel quite "unplugged" from the local matrix.
George's nibbles tomorrow, it is my last, best hope for this year!
Too ill to do much of anything, I had a quiet one, mostly in bed or reading, token coughs here and there. It was my third major downtime due to "flu-like symptoms" this year. Lemsip was interesting the first time, but I soon hated the side effects. The most exciting bit being a drive to look at the windmill in Brill. Doctor Who on a projector held promise, but the experience wasn't quite as thrilling as it might have been.
I envy yous who had little parties and made them sound like fun.
Two weeks of flutime has given me plenty of time to comtemplate life and such. I came to the same realisation I often come to: I'm not happy doing what I'm doing, and whatever it is isn't good for my health either. Still full of quiet loathing and gloom, still finding my heart isn't in anything, that the grass elsewhere doesn't look any greener, and still worried that I can barely manage an ordinary amount of work without getting utterly weary, let alone enjoy myself, do fun things, or shine in any way.
I don't know of anything happening on New Year's. I feel quite "unplugged" from the local matrix.
George's nibbles tomorrow, it is my last, best hope for this year!