I'm feeling really lousy today. (Well, for the last couple of days…) I can't sleep, I have a fever, and I'm grumpy. I get grumpy when I'm sick. I feel bad for Erin. She puts up with my temperament like no one should. I tend to get mad at stupid things. Like runny pasta, or the lack of chocolate in my diet during my weakened state. She has the patience of a Saint.
I'm beginning to look a little feral, I haven't shaved for several days, and my hair looks like the explosion of a bird's nest.
I think when I'm sick, I should be locked away, or left stranded in a cabin in the woods till I'm better. It may be wiser for all.
I'm pretty sure that the dramatic temperature changes here have contributed to my illness. This city has the strangest weather. If a tsunami struck Calgary, I really wouldn't be all that surprised. I'd be pissed off, but at no point would I find it odd.
I have been trying to entertain myself all day; the best I could muster up was an episode of the new Battlestar Galactica, and several hours playing with the Xbox. Hopefully some one will stop my geekish tendencies before I wind up in some role-playing gamer group. If that happens, gone forever the sane and rational Marcus will be.
I have gotten to enjoy the lack of socialization in my life. My friends are now scattered all over the universe, leaving me here to my own devices. At first I found it lonely, now I find a strange comfort in it. I feel like I'm starting to accomplish something with my writing. There are no distractions, just time, and a word processor that seems to beg for my attention. Perhaps one day I may be as famous as Hemmingway, or Burroughs. With my luck, I'll wind up being more of a Danielle Steele.
Well, It's late, and I need to crash. More to come.
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