Welcome To My Bed

Things and such.


I am trying to do too many things at once. Maybe. Or maybe it's something more like doing too little is forcing my body to collapse in on itself. I went to the doctor today and she told me the way I could tell if I had meningitis, and now every time my neck feels sore or even slightly stiff, I jump to a conclusion that is not plausible.

I am trying to distract myself by making a mix of music that defines who I am. James and I talked about this in the car not too long ago, and I keep putting it off. I also keep putting of the CDs I promised my brother I'd make him. And the drawings I said I would do for him. September is almost gone. I don't know where to. But it's nearly out the door.

I have a doctor's note to get out of class for the next two days, and I still feel guilty. I feel like I should be doing something real with my time. I am getting homework out of the way. I missed yoga this morning, but managed to pick up my birthday presents from the post office (a basket and new sheets, my mom is so practical), and also go to one hour of work before feeling like I was going to drop dead of dizziness. If that's even possible. I have had a fever for five days. Utterly ridiculous. That cannot be healthy.

I have to force myself to nap. I am restless. Maybe if I put on a movie or something I can zone out and allow myself to get the rest I need. I doubt it.

Ryan Adams is playing in New York with Oasis on December 17th, and in New Jersey on the 19th. I am so tempted to buy tickets again. I kind of want to take my sister and her boyfriend. I feel like that would be seriously awe-inspiring for all of us. Maybe I can get James to come too, and it'll be a double date, and purely adorable. I say all of this without having checked ticket prices yet. I don't care about ticket prices, I care about romance, I want the Chelsea Hotel we need to book a room we need to get money together for some kind of anniversary present. I have been with him for almost a year. This boggles my mind.