the other night i wrote a poem about blowing my nose. i'm not even joking about this. i was so frustrated with the sneezing, the blowing, the running, the stuffiness (i'm now nearly 9 weeks out from the start of this mayhem), i felt that something HAD to give. apparently, all that gave was some words onto a page. oh well. i should be thankful for the creative bug whenever it bites, right?
speaking of creativity, i've decided that mine is being generally blocked by a build-up of nervous tension and a lack of exercise. i have, therefore, decided that i shall be going back to the gym within the next day or so. i need to get good and exhausted in the way that only an hour-long workout can yield. if it weren't for the sincerely choking heat, i might even consider a few walks around the building during the day, but as it stands, no siree.
i probably shouldn't admit this, but i'm feeling a little happy right about now, and i just had to tell someone.
so now you know:).