From the pages of my class notebook

Last night...
Nov 11 2004
Winter is here with grey skies and chilly winds. I stood at the coffee dispenser, cramming a wrinkled dollar into the rusty machine and cussing mentally each time it spat the bill out again. Victory was mine, and I punched the hot chocolate button. The winds blew rain into my cup as I hummed  and trudged across the leaf-strewn courtyard to the ancient elevator. As the doors rumbled shut, I sipped my paper cup of cocoa and eyeballed the rear doors of the elevator, wondering what secret parts of the chemistry department they lead to. I stepped out into the 1950s as I reached the third floor. The corridor was dark, a single unlit bulb suspended from the ceiling. An open classroom cast light from the windows onto the concrete floor, and I peeked in at the old furniture. I imagined a chemist with a crew cut and horn-rimmed glasses lecturing a class of bored students in tight sweaters.

This cocoa is too thick. It is like chocolate mucous.

Last Tuesday Morning...
Sick sick sick. I have successfully arrived at school without vomiting or passing out on the Pali. Gavin, still sick, cried intermittently from 10pm to 4am. Aside from one or two near-hysterical remarks from me while half asleep, I managed to rock my poor boy in my arms and snuggle next to him as he watched a midnight showing of Lady and the Tramp. Adrenaline hit me as I leapt out of bed at 6:22am to get ready for class, late. That, combined with hunger, must have sent me into a sort of low-blood sugar shock, and I sat down on the toilet, trembling and working up the nerve to make a run for the fridge (our downstairs bathroom is close to the kitchen). Fighting off stars, I chugged three or four gulps of milk from the carton and sat down again for a moment before making a go for the Gatorade. The nausea faded enough for me to trudge upstairs to get dressed. Suspicious, I took my temperature, which should have dropped to 97.4. 98.5. I peed on a stick I had handy, which went reassuringly blank. Now I am at school, cold and sleepy. I need a nap.
 

Even though I am exhausted and sick, my teacher commented in front of the class how pretty I looked. I should stay up all night more often.

 
Last Monday evening...
Once again alone in the chemistry hall. I've had childhood nightmares about these long corridors. On the doors at the end I see a sign depicting a flailing, horizontal man screaming. Is he slipping? Falling? I am going to assume that on the other side of the door is no floor.