Entry tags:
it was a like nightmare. a plague. a nightmare about a plague!
You know it's winter when Fahye gets omg so so so sick.
My nose is streaming, my head is pounding, my throat feels like it's being used as an ice hockey rink and I could probably sleep for two days straight. I also cannot talk! Which was great fun for the tutoring, because I was reduced to pointing helplessly at questions and trying not to hack phlegm all over the poor girl.
I have tea. I have honey-eucalyptus sweets. I have a warm dressing gown and fluffy socks and I'm going to watch the Buffy musical and Dogma and read Oscar and Lucinda again.
I declare this Fahye's Braindead Sunday Night.
If anyone wants to write me pretties, I will sniffle gratefully and try not to ooze onto you.
My nose is streaming, my head is pounding, my throat feels like it's being used as an ice hockey rink and I could probably sleep for two days straight. I also cannot talk! Which was great fun for the tutoring, because I was reduced to pointing helplessly at questions and trying not to hack phlegm all over the poor girl.
I have tea. I have honey-eucalyptus sweets. I have a warm dressing gown and fluffy socks and I'm going to watch the Buffy musical and Dogma and read Oscar and Lucinda again.
I declare this Fahye's Braindead Sunday Night.
If anyone wants to write me pretties, I will sniffle gratefully and try not to ooze onto you.
