whimper

I'm sick, the kind of sick where everything hurts. I can't sleep, because all I can do is think of the things I have to be doing that I can't do. It hurts to move, it hurts to lie on myself, it hurts to think. It hurts to type.
I want to let the fever break on its own but I don't think it will in time. I have deadlines, things to do. I am going to try once more to sleep a little while, but I don't think I'll be able to, because I am so worried about all these things I have to do before tonight, and Z is just napping and doesn't care and when I told him of errands we had to run he shrugged and wandered off, so I know I can't rely on him to wake me up if I should drift off, but I will be useless unless I sleep more, but I don't dare sleep for fear I won't wake up in time to fulfil my obligations.

And it hurts, it hurts just to be.

*sniffle*

Z's shaving off his beard.

I haven't seen him beardless in months. A year? Longer?
I keep pleading with him not to, but he's already made up his mind.


I have had lunch and feel a little better.
I have also blow-dried, hairsprayed, and braided Z's hair so that hopefully it will have some volume once I comb it out. My hair has been in braids since last night.
I'm planning on using a curling iron on parts of it, but I don't really have any clue what I'm doing. So who knows what'll wind up happening with my hair.

I'm at least feeling better. Not great, but if I don't move much I don't particularly notice that I'm not feeling well. Which is a damn sight better than the awful achy pangy stuff I kept having that was keeping me from sleeping last night.

Mom just IMd. Gram's in a lot of pain and they don't know why, so she and Uncle Pete have to spend a lot of time taking care of her, and she has to take a lot of painkillers. Which is a bummer.
But meanwhile Dad has got Ghost tamed a little bit. She's very spooky but he spoils her so that she likes to hang out with him-- she gets up on the table while he's eating and sniffs at his food, and the like. Which he won't let the other cats do, but in the name of domestication he's willing to put up with it from her. Now that she's been spayed they let her outside at will, figuring that if she's smart she'll come back, and if she's not she'll stay outside and die somewhere and it's her loss really. Which sounds heartless, but she comes back every time. Today they let her out the front door at her request, and she came back in through the basement and asked to be let in. So, acting more like a normal cat. She's bigger, and very pretty now, a fluffy gray pretty kitty with a striking ruff of fur around her neck like a Maine Coon, but without the size usually associated with that breed.

Dad also shaves daily with the straight razor I got him. It "keeps him on his toes". He's installed a special hook for the razor strop on the edge of the sink enclosure. This fills me with glee. I'd figured he'd use the thing maybe once or twice and then would just have it as a pretty thing to have, you know? So it's nice that he actually uses it.

I hope I can get a chance to visit home again fairly soon. Mom and Dad are thinking of coming out for the Feb 10th roller derby bout just because the next one isn't for such a long time (Mar 31st). We'll see-- it depends on Gram and the weather.

I am writing all this and not thinking about Dave shaving off his beard. :( I don't want to lose the fuzzy!

Oh well. Stubble is hot. I won't go into TMI about it but we'll just say I like the texture sometimes.