What's Up, Doc?

I went to bed last night this close to giving up on love and joining the not-so-little society of modern day cynics who are all brusque and gruff and tough as nails on the outside and too scared/proud to admit to the pain they feel inside. I've been not completely well for the longest time now. I'm not sick, but I'm definately not healthy, and I fall almost-ill all the damn time. You know, when you've got just a smidgen of a fever all day, and it only flares up at night, so you end up sleeping restlessly and having the most absurd dreams, most of which are just endless looping replays of things that happened to you either that day, or sometime in the past, or in your head when you're worrying about how things are going to work out in regards to something that's stressing you out.. (how's that for a run-on sentence?) I think a lot of the reason why I'm so irritable and upset lately is just plain because of that. Maybe that's why I was so happy when I was in Bintan. The fresh air did me a lot of good, even if I wasn't getting much sleep.

Point being, I spent a long time yesterday arguing with the boy, and I fell asleep in a lousy, lousy mood. But then, I woke up today, and it's gorgeous weather, raining like anything with no sign of letting up, and I watched toons on Boomerang with my dad, had a good lunch, just a nice lazy time. I was flipping channels, and I settled down to watch What's Up, Doc. You know, that movie where Barbara Streisand actually looks kinda cute, and there's all sorts of mayhem, and it's just the absolute perfect thing to watch when you're running a fever and feeling kinda half-absent from the world at large.



Now I feel better. Hopefully I get a chance to explain. Thanks for being so patient, bubba. You're still an inconsiderate jerk, but I adore you anyway.