Swing.

It was about eleven-thirty last night. I had just finished the sudoku puzzle in the morning's newspaper and a round of Tetris, and was about to go to sleep (early because I wanted lots of sleep and my stuffy nose was bothering me), but I started crying out of nowhere, and I couldn't stop. Eventually, I ran to my mother, who tried her best to comfort me. I kept going. My nose grew so stuffy I couldn't breathe through it at all, and I was coughing and gasping for air a lot. Doesn't help that my mother's got very few pillows on her bed and I was flat on my back. The worst part was that the physical pain returned. I remember clutching my chest and saying it hurt because it did. I was crying for at least an hour solid before I fell asleep. Mercifully, I slept through. I think I was just that drained.

Last night was not a good night. This morning is not a good morning, either. My nose is still stuffy and I've got a headache from crying, and I'm at risk for crying again (my forearms are also very itchy and I haven't the slightest why). That, combined with the assloads of snow on the ground making it impossible to go anywhere, I really wanna call out from work today.

And needless to say I'm not very pretty this morning. Not that I ever was, ever, but, y'know. Relatively unpretty. The ugliest shade of dark purple is sitting beneath my clashing red eyes right now. Augh.

I had a weird fantasy dream, with a lot of dream-people in it. It had nothing to do with current events, but I very obliquely alluded to them; there was this guy who had lost the woman he loved, but he eventually moved on and married someone else and had a family. When I brought news from the first woman (I had to swim through a weird moat-thing), his face lit up and he looked like a little kid and ran off all excited. His wife looked less than pleased: a little angry and jealous, but mostly sad, as though she knew she would always be second-best. "Wouldn't you give anything to see your _____?" I asked her. I forgot the word(s) I used. Then I apologized for speaking out of turn. She shook her head and her curls bounced (she had really pretty, really dark hair), said she understood, but continued looking sad. There was some other stuff in the dream, but, naturally, that's what sticks out most in my mind.

My body woke up on its own at almost exactly seven, and I regretted that immediately. Everything is sore or impaired, and I'm still really sleepy. Maybe I'll have Mom call me out on account of being sick YET AGAIN. :/

I refuse to believe The Beatles lied to me.

( I'm feeling a little better now. )