If you’re wondering why that last entry didn’t make a lot of sense, it’s because I wrote it while feverish. That’s what I do when I get a fever; drive and babble. And then I shut down completely, refusing to remove myself from the couch or answer the phone until I am well again. That last bit gets me in trouble, especially this time. Several of my friends took to stalking me (in a pleasant way) in order to figure out if I was, in fact, alive. This is sweet, although it has led to a week of putting out fires. “Omigod, I’m so glad you’re okay” is the number one response, although my personal favorite is “so, am I just the d-bag for not being worried about you?” For the record, I am okeydokey, and you’re not the d-bag, I am. I have great friends and I ignore them; pretty soon there will be no one left to ignore.
My life continues to move forward, kind of. I still live at home, I read a lot, and my mom and I are taking a trip to Seattle in a little over a week. We were going to put it off until I had a sense of future, but it turns out it’s pretty easy to get a vacation from doing nothing.