Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Not Dead

But my body seems to be making an honest attempt at it.

I appear to have my sinus/ear infection thingy back again. Have been running a fever for two days -- hopefully it will go away by itself, because getting a doctor to treat a sinus infection with sommething other than a proclaimation that I do HAVE a sinus infection is a waste of time. Understand, I'm a huge believer in not overprescribing antibiotics. This means that by the time I'm willing to pay money to see a doctor the symptoms have been around for a DAMN LONG TIME. No doctor is willing to believe this, which inevitably means two doctor visits, twice the co-pay, and still more time spent in Yuckysickville before that magic train ticket home is mine.

Onward, to better things. There is highly important work being done at the University of Chicago. It's inspiring. You should read it. All of you. I'll wait.

Back? Good. In other news, George has gone. Tom is happy about this (though not about the not!Tom fur that was left all over one of his bazillion kitty beds). I miss the little critter, but not the heat that resulted from shutting half of the house off from the AC to keep them apart. Ninety degree weather in a stuffy house while you're running a fever is PAINFUL, I tell you.

I spent most of the night on this site, learning about Elizabethan England. I do believe this behavior is clinically called "dorking around." In this case, the modifier "in a big way" would be added.

I drove past Loring park on the way home from knitting this Sunday, and realized that Pride was going on. I then realized that I wasn't too fussed that I wasn't there. I suppose it's a good thing, that it no longer seems mandatory, that I'm pickier about my celebrations now (the OHP mailing list helped this year with posts about various local actions against the corporatization of Pride events), but really, it kinda made me feel old. This could be part of the reason why, but I'm feeling too damn sick to analyze it, and really just wanted an excuse to throw out that link.

At any rate, it's four in the morning, and I'm gonna go to bed and pretend to sleep until I pass out. Hello, summer. I see you brought the shitty sleep patterns with you again.


Blogger Jon said...

Everybody knows that Brian May, not Freddie Mercury, wrote "Fat Bottomed Girls." Freddie's dead for crying out loud - I wish the Chicago folks would quit dragging his name through the mud. :p

4:30 PM  

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