It's One of Those Days. Dreamt about having cancer, my hair coming off in the comb. In big chunks, like you see in the movies. And now I think I'm getting sick, the ominous tickle in the back of my throat, the pressure in my sinuses a black cloud hanging over my thoughts.
May see what other medications we have in the office. The cold/fever hot drink I tried was terrible.
I don't know what I'm doing tonight. I don't know what I'm doing this weekend (except, of course, for Free Comic Book Day). All I know is that the weekend is three days long, and that's a reason to rejoice.
Last night I couldn't get excited about writing, couldn't get excited about coverage, couldn't get excited about books, couldn't get excited about the freakin' Daily Show. Perhaps it was a prelude to looming illness, or perhaps I'm just a little... burned out isn't the right phrase. I'm just tired, and I'm tired of so many things I enjoy seeming like work.
May just go to bed early tonight, watching a movie or something. Maybe I just need a little break.