(no subject)

Bene says OTL may be hitting Belgium on Valentine's day. (Um, people? I'll b back from the States by then. The hell?) But dubbed? Bene, do you know if it'll be dubbed in Flandria as well? (If it's not, I'm summoning you over here so we can have a Puppy Party.)

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It's never too late for lesbians!
(Amy; AIM)

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Randomly, I've put two spikes on my bag. not sure on where to put the rest, but at elast I know now that I only need a pair of sissors.

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Aaarghshefuy.

Fucking. Fever. Nose clogged up to my sinuses. (Dear sinuses, I hate you. You've made my life a living hell since I was 11. I thought you'd finally been subdued, but obviously not. You fuckers.) Shivering. Aching. Not good. Not going to work. Argh. Must stay up until 9 so I can call in. Debating wether or not to go to bed after.

Uuuuuuuuurgh.

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Nobody picking up the phone yet at work. Which means the "other IT person" is prolly also still ill. Um. Argh.

I think I'll just send an email and go to bed.

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I think my problem may be that I'm lacking ... something. Vitamins or whatever. Iron! Because dammit, I've been ill more in the last year than I have been in the previous eight years together.

Fucking.

Oh, I know, I know. It's not like I'm ill that much. My coworker's been ill more, and I find that perfectly normal, but dammit, not for me. I'm not supposed to be that ill that often. I used to have sinus infections every damn month, but never to the point that I had to stay in bed. And I used to get by just fine on five hours of sleep, and now even six hours leave me exhausted.

Sight. Fucking body.

(no subject)

You Ozzy fans have prolly already seen this (being in the States and all), but he's on my MTV right now saying he loves Britney. Heee.

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In other news, my mom just called, and I attempted to mute the computer instead of the tv. Ahem.

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Have decided to do the novel thing after all. Except I won't be doing the novel thing, really. I'll be writing what I'd be writing in the first place, except I'll be forcing myself to do the 50,000 words in a month thing. I think I can handle that. Maybe it'll get me into some sort of writing rhytm.

(no subject)

Last night, I dreamt I was eating chicken. Um. I've not eaten any meat in um. Five and a half years. The hell? I wonder if this is like those dreams my dad had about smoking, six years after quitting.

(no subject)

We have a crown princess. Elizabeth.