y'know...

The next time someone tells me that socialised medicine in the US is bad, I think I'll kick them. And the people who tell me I should be able to afford health care.

Right after I stop feeling dizzy and limp.

I really hope I can ignore my over-active imagination. I'd like to sleep before I have to go to work in 7 hours. Dreaming about dying of a massive heart attack, stroke, or meningitis is not very conducive to rest.

it's aliiiive....

Though it feels rather bruised. I put this down to doing officey things I don't normally do. My shoulders are all shot.

mm. Hungry.

I got stuck stuffing envelopes. Alone. For two hours. With NO SOUND.

So I ended up singing Tori Amos in my head. First, Boys for Pele (I lost bits of Hey, Jupiter, and the end of the album); then some of Choirgirl. And then I switched to the Pet Shop Boys' Very; I got through the first two songs, forgot the next one, and sang most of To Speak is a Sin. All in my head. Like a jukebox.

Am I still sane? Who knows.

Came home, collapsed. Going to work the overnight in an hour. Sigh.