06 XI 2001 - 16:46 - vita7

Today was an interesting day. First there was my math test, which was easier than I thought it would be but was still quite hard. I think he threw in a couple of impossible problems. (Not that I would know it; that not studying thing has got to be stopped.) Then there was D-block badminton, which I could quite easily have skipped because my supervisor wasn't there, but no, I stayed up there, and what ended up happening is that my friend did something to his shoulder (something bad, like pulling it or something) and also hit me in the lip with his racket (the blood is still making me nauseated.) Oh, and right now the world is spinning. How delightful.

On top of that-all, I'm cold, and I'm so rarely cold. I think I'm getting sick - either that, or I'm not drinking the water I need to keep my blood volume up so that it can spread heat through my body. Somewhere in the back of my head rests the knowledge that I really should be doing homework, but it's being drowned out by the desire for sleep and the dull pain in the muscle that runs from my neck to my right shoulder (I've been told it has a touch of tendinitis) and the pain in my upper lip and jesus god, I think a tile just fell from our roof.

You know, I'm sick of having people look right through me when they talk to me, and I'm sick of people who don't wait for answers to their questions like "How are you doing?" - fine if they don't ask, but if they ask, shouldn't they at least wait around for a response? And I'm sick of my loud classmates and I think that's enough whining for today, thank you very much, but sometimes I just get so frustrated that. Ah. No violence, still; what I really want to do is find a dark corner, curl up, and be alone.

Today when I got home, I took my glasses off and attempted to:

• read the newspaper
• clean out the toaster oven
• get a half-eaten sandwich out of the takeout container and into the toaster oven without geting ketchup on my fingers
• make tea
• figure out what was wrong with the VCR
• bandage my foot
• find my glasses

You know what's disturbing? J. looks about twelve years old when he's in a class because he looks so lost, so confused. I've been told that B. looks twelve too. Tiff has been calling me a chickenhawk ever since I commented on the first and I don't think it's going to stop any time soon... *sighs*

I think I'm going to go read some more of some other people's entries now. The poem topic is stirring in the back of my head, but I don't feel like writing about laughing girls at the moment. Before I forget: Al, do you want to go to ACWLP during our half-hour break this Saturday? And *hopes* do you want to be really nice, go through my entries, and tell me which Latin words I've already used? No to the latter? I thought not. (But I'm too darned lazy to do it!)

libellus, i m. little book

(Quote: quidquid hoc libelli [est], whatever this is of a (little) book - I believe that's from Catullus, but I'd have to look it up and I'm too lazy to do that.