jjjjjjnjnmndlpm Brainbrokensendheadrepairman (Running cold and hot sweat included FREE"}

[withiel]

Vnn. Finished "essay"*. Fixed curtains (sort of). Have not tidied up because I think I MAY DIE OF ILL. Have predatory rash, neverending headache, keep passing out and jolting back into reality, eyes hurt, joints hurt, knee is packing up, and I'm not sure a)how I wrote 2,056 almost coherent words, and b) whether I will make it i) to my tutorial ii)through my tutorial without being eaten alive because my ideas on race and colonialism and novel things are frankly crap. I'd love to say it's a hangover, but I recovered from that at about 10 today. Gahfuck. Shoulder twinging again now* and my Good Old Friend the Fever is back. Which means I'm either shivering uncontrollably on the edge of vomiting, or overheating to the extent of passing out, which also. gives. me. a. rash. And my neck won't move and I HAVE NO PAINKILLERS ARGH ARGH. i think I may just aenesthetise myself with tea and Nytol, and if I don't wake up for my tutorial, fuckit, I can't do the subject anyway.

Apologies, lovely flist, for wangst and whinging. I'm off to wake Laura. And the fact that I get to do that makes all this* worth it. Which is a sentence finished with a preposition, clichéd crap, and absoluttely true.

*For "essay" read "stain on my reputation"
*By "twinging" I mean "suffering shooting pains that make me writhe on the floor screaming AGH KILL ME NOW"
*My Impending Total Biological Collapse