Paws
I got a migraine today, or yesterday, whether you take midnight or the sun as your point of reference. I still have that weird taste in your mouth you get afterwards, like the iron from blood without any of the crimson aftertaste. Like you decided to suck on a frying pan and you have washed your mouth out but the taste lingers. I can't think of another way of describing it. I managed it well (went into a dark room right away, went to sleep right away, etc), and it didn't hurt much at any time but I'm still amazed at how completely debilitating they are. Piotr was there and he tried to make conversation, but all I could manage is saying Conversation is rare now or some such. Leave it to me to spout more and more cryptic things while struck down with illness.
Y^2 is on a plane now, happily jaunting over the Pacific, hopefully asleep instead of vomitting. She hits China, then Ottawa, then Halifax between now and September. Three months invested, three months gone, the timing is almost impeccably perfect. Strangely, she left me behind a gift before leaving, a man paid for in metaphor. I'll keep this one I think.
With my tails back from the dry cleaners, I plan to make my mask for The Masquerade today. Long nose, gold, with feathers is the plan. Should be fun.
I have an overpowering desire to talk to Erin right now.
Also, as a complete aside, I love my mother very very much.
Written On: Piotr's Computer