I woke up today feeling awful and so I dragged myself to the health clinic only to be told I have a virus, but left with a note saying I was excuse from class for the next two days, if only for the look of misery on my face. He said, "Your symptoms are very virusy" and later "You have that 'I'm miserable' look on your face." I got cough syrup and decongestant and one of them makes me feel terribly woozy and slightly nauseous and I stare off into space like I'm high. I spent the afternoon in bed with knitting and television, but got antsy at night and wandered over to Julia's where I spent the evening talking with her and Dee about all sorts of things, but mostly definitions. As a person who likes words, I like to diffrentiate one thing from the other, because after all, that's why words are necessary. Some people do not do this, some people like everything to be everything. I like variety. There are many people I do not like. There are many people I love. A lot of these people are the same, but some of them are not and that's okay. I feel like I am talking to third graders "It's okay that things are different," but at college age, people regress and start to feel uncomfortable again, but they see it in a floaty surreal sort of enlightened way. Somedays I am sick, otherdays I am not, there is a difference.