cynth (cynthtastic) wrote,
cynth
cynthtastic

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Where do the weekends go?

We saw The Forgotten, and it was good. The rest is a blur of beer and restaurants. saintdani, revvoice, teejeans, crashrose, and I were at a bar, and there was karaoke; I did not partake. Not of the karaoke. The beer, yes. I had beer.

Now I have a cold. Sore throat. Postnasal drip. No fun. I'm afraid I may lose my voice. You know how you can feel that non-existent ball in your throat, and then you can't talk anymore? The ball is there. I wonder if I can talk... Seems insane to talk to myself to find out. I'll talk to crashrose in a little while.

crashrose painted a beautiful thing last night. It kept her up half the night, and she turned the TV on or up when she came to bed. Could've killed her. But I was tired and sick, much like now, only with the prospect of sleep, so I could've killed almost anything.

Except NyQuil. I wouldn't kill NyQuil. Not even when I was an insomniac, sore-throated ball of rage.

I've only been up for an hour? Why does it feel like eighteen?
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