... and still sick. Gavin feels that my prone position on the couch is invitation to use my stomach for a trampoline. In my haggard, croaking state, I have put off all homework in favor of some trashy novel reading. Some books strike chords in you. The Color Purple struck so many that I was humming for two years. This book only made one of my chords twang briefly - with this sentence near the end:
"Even when I'm on my guard, being watchful, he can piss me off, turn me on, make me question my judgement, and, in general, provoke inconvenient emotions."
Yep.
At any rate, I still must put my runny nose to the computer screen and finish my cataloging homework before class tomorrow.
The night before last, I barked directions from the couch while Mike and my mother decorated the tree. Gavin took the role of Official Ornament Distributor, selecting ornaments from the boxes and deciding who got to hang what, and doing a surprisingly good job. Yesterday, despite my spinning head, I spent the better part of the day shopping with my mom and eating Chinese food. I had a skirt to buy for my interview this week, as all my other skirts fall to the floor when I button them up. My mom and Mike cheered when I put on my outfit, "You look sexy!" Not what I was going for with an interview as a reference librarian. I stripped off the shirt and rummaged through the closet for something more conservative. All the same, it was nice to hear. Now I am doped up on DayQuil and enjoying the scent of our new pine wreathe, daydreaming a bit and letting Gavin slide down the stairs on the lid to the hamper. Despite the weakness in my chest and pounding in my head, I am pretty happy. I love Christmas.
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