It's not good to laugh when one's lungs are rebelling. – Online girlfriends sell love to dateless – Feb. 5, 2004

In other news, I’ve been below radar lately. In fact, so far below radar that I’ve managed to tunnel under the weather. *grin*

It all started with um… Steven’s newish roommate John. Whose girlfriend Rachel came home with a cold. Gave it to John. Who shared it ever so kindly with Steven. Who passed it on to me.

Stress was high last week. JR and Elena came to visit (which was nice – rather surreal, but pleasant). Went to San Fran and spent the whole afternoon in transit. Either stuck in a car somewhere on the Bay Bridge (or in the hellish logjam right before the bridge), on foot toward The Castro, on BART / Muni, on foot again, in the car again, on foot again, in the car, on foot, in the car, and back to Davis. Whereupon I noticed my throat getting a bit scratchy.

I cried “Methinks it’s February, o black-hearted, cold-fingered month! For I feel my throat rising up in rebellion, my nostrils freely flowing, and my cough about to begin!” The three years (not in a perfect row!) that I’ve gotten horrendously sick in February have been the years that I’ve gone to TIC. And come home with a cold, or have gotten one shortly afterwards. Which leave me wiped out, temporarily deaf and throbbing in one ear, wheezing and coughing, weak, absolutely helpless and likewise bored… or some combination of the above.

I detest February. It is the month of midterms, of wintertime, of short tempers and frustration with the world. TS Eliot – you were wrong. April is not the cruelest month. February has wrested that title from April’s green springtime grasp. February is short, making one believe that it is the less in sheer nassstiness. February is cold. It is grinding. It hints at sunshine and teases us with early plum trees blossoming. It boasts lush grass with nearly-frozen dew, and slices us with chill winds. Would you be less bitter, February, if we gave you back those missing two days?

*growls… and wheezes. Then growls again*

I suppose if I get mad at February I won’t be too melodramatically down this year. Rawr!

~ by jackelopette on February 5, 2004.

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