aaaaaaaaaaaggh

I tried reading some Emily Dickinson. The poetry was good, but didn't help with the sleepiness factor. I tried making my mind blank, and letting myself just fall out of consciousness. But that didn't work, either. And so, wide awake at three a.m., I found myself opening wide and looking into the mirror. Damn. Still infected. Why aren't these antibiotics working? *shakes capsules* WORK, DAMMIT!!!

I am tired of being stuck inside my house. Tired, tired, tired. I am not so tired in the oh-yawn-I'm-sleepy sense - proof of this being my sitting here, typing away. I want to go OUTSIDE. I want to RUN. I want to see my BOYFRIEND and FRIENDS. I want to go for a nice evening walk (or, even better, run) when the sweltering heat has died down. Do I sound spoiled?

Clearly, this being-sick-in-the-summer dealie that happens every couple of years makes me pause and reflect on myself and what I want/need. I don't want to be healthy. I need to be healthy, as all human beings do. I need to have social interaction. Otherwise, I will wither like I did three years ago. And I really don't want that to happen again. I could survive without exercise, but now that I've experienced what it's like to be in decent shape, I don't think I could ever be anything less and be satisfied with myself.

I'm not asking for a million dollars. I'm not asking for anything material, really. I just need for this infection to go away. Health is one of the easiest things to take for granted. I'm not dying or anything, but you get my point - health is kind of like white noise; it's there most of the time, but when it's gone everything seems so eerily quiet and you wonder why. That was a really bad analogy, but who cares? It's 3:25 a.m. and I still have white lumps in the back of my throat.

apology -

This being cooped up and ill has made me become really irritable and whiny. Sorry.

You know what I realized today? I think I am becoming more like my old worrying self again. If everything's not perfect lately, I've been freaking out and having weird spaz attacks at people (mostly my mom. Gah. I am such a horrible human being.). I need to work on this. A lot.

It's disappointing to realize that, after so much effort and reflection, I have regressed to being a lot like I was a couple of years ago. And I was beginning to get good at optomism, living in the moment, and not obsessing over detail. Maybe I'll go and visit Mr. Jordan when school starts. He's a good guy to talk to about such things.