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Feb. 12th, 2008 02:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolOh god. There is someone running around my sinuses with a wee spoon, beating on them and making me feel crappy and generally ARGH.
I am not a nice person right now. I can't sleep due to being congested, which means that I am irrationally mean and angry at the world. Painkillers help, but aren't that great. I was incredibly mean to Sarah this morning and feel a wee bit guilty; I am also unable to do anything but consider the vague possibility of getting out of my pajamas. Maybe. I need to go and buy food, but I can't taste anything, which really just puts me off. There's nothing worse than craving chocolate and just getting the texture from it.
To be honest with you, I don't have anything to write about, but I'm just apologising in advance for when I try to bite your head off, or possibly try to cut my own head off.
Whine whinge whine. I think I'm mostly just peeved and pissy because I can't even fucking nap properly and then when I do conk out its at an entirely inappropriate time.
In other news, I spent an entertaining twenty minutes on the phone to my father last night, who gave me the recipe for Scouse ("... and the put loads of tomato sauce on." "No, that's just you, Dad.") and told me about how he's stopping smoking and has forced my mother and sister out into the garden to have their fags. I find a certain amount of hypocrisy in that allowing me to inhale second hand smoke for twenty years is A-OK, but it's okay when he's stopping smoking. Still, though, it's fabulous news that at least one of them is trying to kick it, even if he has gone a bit batty with it.
I want to sit and watch films in my pajamas today. WAAAAAH. Reading a biography of Henry VIII and coughing up my lungs and sneezing out my brains seems so much less enjoyable as a prospect.
I am not a nice person right now. I can't sleep due to being congested, which means that I am irrationally mean and angry at the world. Painkillers help, but aren't that great. I was incredibly mean to Sarah this morning and feel a wee bit guilty; I am also unable to do anything but consider the vague possibility of getting out of my pajamas. Maybe. I need to go and buy food, but I can't taste anything, which really just puts me off. There's nothing worse than craving chocolate and just getting the texture from it.
To be honest with you, I don't have anything to write about, but I'm just apologising in advance for when I try to bite your head off, or possibly try to cut my own head off.
Whine whinge whine. I think I'm mostly just peeved and pissy because I can't even fucking nap properly and then when I do conk out its at an entirely inappropriate time.
In other news, I spent an entertaining twenty minutes on the phone to my father last night, who gave me the recipe for Scouse ("... and the put loads of tomato sauce on." "No, that's just you, Dad.") and told me about how he's stopping smoking and has forced my mother and sister out into the garden to have their fags. I find a certain amount of hypocrisy in that allowing me to inhale second hand smoke for twenty years is A-OK, but it's okay when he's stopping smoking. Still, though, it's fabulous news that at least one of them is trying to kick it, even if he has gone a bit batty with it.
I want to sit and watch films in my pajamas today. WAAAAAH. Reading a biography of Henry VIII and coughing up my lungs and sneezing out my brains seems so much less enjoyable as a prospect.
