DATE: 8/01/2002 11:04:00 AM
Stephen is still sick. (Say that five times fast). I was supposed to go visit him in Somerset yesterday, but he needed to take it easy, so I stayed around here. I was actually pretty psyched after a while, and got many a productive thing done, errands and suchlike and whatnot, and then surfed the Net for a gratuitously long time. Then I procured fast food and settled in front of the TV, meaning to surf till South Park came on, then watch South Park to my heart's content, revelling in the fact that our house has joined the 21st century and now gets Comedy Central.
But it was not to be.
The last thing I remember is the beginning of an episode of Law and Order at 9. The next thing I remember is my mother nudging me toward my bedroom at around 10, I guess after she found me passed out on the couch. And then it was 3 a.m., and I was WIDE awake.
Oh, minions. The pain. THE PAIN.
I felt as if my stomach had been neatly sliced at the duodenum and the esophageal sphincter, removed, and lightly fricasseed, before being returned to my abdomen sizzling like a Chili's fajita skillet. Mmmm. Chili's fajita skillet. I hate it when you can't tell if you're really, really, really hungry or slightly sick. I also hate dry mouth, and I seem to have it more often than not of late. But worst of all, my every vampiric tendency seemed to have risen up from its forced dormancy to say: Nine o'clock?? You've gotta be shitting me!
And then it started. Cascades and oceans of thoughts, important stuff occurring to me at the worst possible time, to the point where I turned on the light and started making lists of all the stuff I was remembering at that particular moment for whatever freakin reason. I wrote out a substantial list of things to do once I was ready to be conscious today, a list of stuff I had to do before I go back to UMass, and a list of the stuff I was going to take to UMass. I had this crazy dream about getting up and sleepwalking to my car and then sleepdriving up to the car dealership, except I sleepsmoked on the way there, and that would've been cool except I was asleep, and so I forgot to open the window before tossing my butts out and I sort of caught fire and exploded into a fireball. So I thought I'd write that one down too in case it would make a good story later. I've been reading a little more Stephen King than is healthy, I think.
So I think I'll go and enjoy my last day of freedom before me and my fucked up Pinto of a body go to my doctor's appointment tomorrow, and they tell me I have high-cholesterol-induced terminal Swine flu or something.