I have a fever. I am pretty sure I've had a slight fever for the past two days, but now I'm certain of it, because I'm starting to feel better and I'm suddenly feeling very silly and very hungry. I still don't dare eat anything, because my stomach isn't really in the mood for playing Dissolve-The-Sandwich, but I'm going to deal with the silliness for a little while.
Tried to write an entry this evening: "why Helena dropped out of college." But it started to hurt too much. Will try again tomorrow.
Was at Lost Dog the other night with Nathan, discussing work-things and listening to the jazz band playing. Norman was on guitar. I said to Nathan, "I am so happy with him." Nathan didn't say anything. He didn't expect me to say something like that. Frankly, neither did I. I don't think I've ever said those words about anyone. Norman played on, oblivious to everything but his song. That was okay. I knew I was smiling, even if he didn't.
I think I'm okay talking to Nathan again. We got a few things cleared up. Not everything, but a few things.
Just realized that the word "laundry" can make me blush in ways that possibly no other word can.
I never do my laundry. Never. It's going to rot away and I'm going to have to buy myself a new wardrobe. Nonetheless, every time I SAY I'm going to do laundry, every time I'm anywhere within breathing-distance of a laundromat (needless to say, this has not been in quite some time) something out of the ordinary happens, such that, certain acquaintances of mine, who shall remain nameless, have come to associate a Helena-happy-face with the question: "Why the good mood? Been out all night doing laundry?"
Maybe I'll do my laundry when I move into my new apartment. There's a washer and dryer downstairs, and I'm in desperate need of nice clean socks.
(That's SOCKS, kids...)
*blush*
Fuck. I HATE that word, "laundry."
Really would have liked to write a real entry this evening, but it's getting late now.
Goodnight...
~H.T.*