I don't feel good. Oh, I don't feel good. I'm sitting on the futon, at 11:51 pm. fighting nausea. I've already been to the bathroom, heaving, with no results. It came upon me suddenly. I don't know if it's something I ate, if it's my drugs, or if it's a bug. All I know is that I would love to throw up and be done with it, so I can get some sleep before I have to get up for work in the morning. I hate this feeling. Someone make it better.
Night Court is on. At least I have distractions. I want to be a lawyer in Judge Harry Stone's courtroom. Can I?
Sarah Cool wanted a picture of Ethan, so if this thing will load one, I'll put up a picture of the cutest boy I know... unfortunately, it doesn't seem to want to open up tonight, so a picture must wait til tomorrow.
And now. I go. To crawl. Under. My pretty quilt. And shiver. And try not to puke into the garbage can beside me. Because that would be hell to clean up. Oh sickness.