So yes, it's almost two in the morning, and yes, I'm still awake. Lord only knows why. All day I was dragging just a little bit--had that heavy feeling in my eyelids, and the desire to just stay quiet and rest. But somehow once it was almost midnight, bing! I was awake. Very awake. I can feel how tired I am and yet I also know that if I go and lie down I will just lie awake and lie awake, watching the numbers on the clock change. So here I am.
It has been a productive evening, though. I started my fantasy short story shortly after coming home from class, and have written about 1000 words so far. I'm feeling pretty positive about what I've written, too--though knowing me, I'll write and write until I'm almost done and then realize that I hate it and start again. I'd really rather not do that this time, though, what with the tight time limit and all, and so I'll stick to the happy-positive thinking and not read it until the draft is finished.
I'm still lingering in that questionable place between sick and not sick. My throat, though not exactly sore anymore, feels strange when I swallow, and my sinuses have begun to ache, etc., and yet I remain highly functional. Except for the sleep thing. So I've been throwing zinc and vitamin C at this potential illness in the hope that if it does develop into a full-blown sickness then it will not be too severe and will leave me quickly. Here's to hoping.
So, since I don't have any major written assignments due next week, my time will be spent reading books and writing/editing/polishing the short story. And I figure that even if I do become horribly ill, well, I can read books in bed and have written some really cool short fiction while taking high doses of Sudafed.
But now I think I'll go to bed and read for a while. My book for today was
Survival in Auschwitz by Primo Levi, which is a very good book, actually, and I only have a handful of pages left. Up next:
The Book of Three. (Nothing like a little variety, huh?) Night, all.
