The googleator keeps telling my diary to find god. Hrmm.

So uh, yeah, this is the part of being sick where I'm really, really bored. I also took the fabulous "brain persuasion test." It told me "you "learn from experience" and can go through the process more rapidly on subsequent occasions." Ooh, SPOOKY. The word "darndest" was also used.

I just went for a walk to the post office and back and I'm ready to collapse. It's very, very hot out and I'm very, very wussy. I am eating non-bacon food again, though. Frozen apples, frozen berries, and I just got myself some cucumbers as a treat. I was out depositing a paycheque from office-I-quit that finally finally arrived in the mail (downside to new, excellent work hours: new, smaller paycheques.) and getting a mystery package at the post office, which turned out to be a wedding present. Giant purple towels from boy's grandma. He'll love them, they're about as big as he is.

The one good thing about having a fever is the delusions. For a minute just now I dozed off staring at the giant lobster painted on the building across the street (real) thinking it had an important message for me about my guitar (not real.) Yesterday night I finally shook off the idea that I had to make a special sickness suit to wear. It would look like scale mail only made of white fabric, and I would be able to float in it. I thought it was ironic that I was too sick to make it, so I wouldn't have it until it was too late. But last night I started feeling a bit better, maybe better enough to sew, and then I realized that um, no, I don't need cotton scale mail to be sick in.