March 28-29, 2001 — Looking forward to your suffering

I knew last night that I would be sick today. My throat was slightly sore and my nose was a little runny. If only there were a way to force your body to sleep through a day that you know in advance won't be worth your time. But alas...

Realities being as they are, I've just tallied up my orange juice consumption for the day and found that I'm almost up to 500% of my recommended daily intake of vitamin C. I've also had several liters of water to drink. If nothing else, my mom has thoroughly brainwashed me into believing this drink-lots-of-fluids approach of hers to cold management. (And for some reason, I feel all that much less cool for having written that.)

After finally finishing a journal yesterday for Monday and Tuesday, I managed to avoid learning to play euchre and to avoid walking to see that castle in Toronto that I'm too lazy to find the proper spelling of. Is it becoming clearer as to why I'm the perfect candidate for social convener in the residence that I won't be returning to next year?

I went to sleep early last night, and I succeeded in waking up a dozen or so times. To the untrained eye, it may seem that this was caused by the two liters of water that I drank shortly before going to sleep. In reality, though, this should be taken simply as further evidence that my body hates me. I'm looking forward to feeling this way all summer as I try to get used to having a cat to deal with again. So many reasons to be counting the days leading up to my return to Richmond...

And today. I woke up feeling terrible and was in and out of bed for most of the afternoon. I got nothing accomplished, and I've no intention to even try to change this. The highlight has been finding that I'm still winning the "prettiest girl" poll on Lindsay's page. Somehow it all makes sense...

Gillian's back in Canada and surprised me with a phone call last night. I wasn't terribly lucid given my overpowering desire to crawl into bed at the time, and she emailed me today to say that she wouldn't be able to read my journal anymore. I suppose we're even now.

It's not even 9:00PM yet and it feels more like 4:00AM. Maybe this cold is secretly working to return me to a healthy sleep schedule. I like to pretend that microscopic organisms have ulterior motives. Try it some time; it makes reading about foot-and-mouth disease that much more interesting...

Someone just called and hung up before saying anything. Was it you?

Speaking of which, I just found my entry in the Toronto phone book today. What joy to finally find myself listed. Now even if I weren't giving my phone number out in my ICQ profile and on my Web page, it would still be exceptionally easy to track down online. How I love the Internet.

I guess that gets us about caught up. There are rumours of a Radiohead room at a hotel downtown -- supposedly you can go in search of the room and listen to "Amnesiac," their new record, if you're lucky enough to track it down. Tomorrow will be an adventure. Assuming I feel better, anyway.

Excuse me while I cough myself to sleep. This is all your fault.