My delinquency has appeared to have reached an all time high. In between bouts of flu and cold, anxiety and a couple apple martinis, I've managed to vomit, cough, sweat and gulp my way through the past few weeks. And not blog.
I'm trying to keep up, but the pressure is.. so much right now. I took a night off and could barely contain the itchy fingers from e-mail, from text books, from the phone, from... anything. I feel like an egg, or an aquaduct, all the pressure on one point, if it slips, I'll crack and crumble.
It's been raining for two days. All I want is to crawl under the covers with tea and books, and leave my window open, and be cold and warm and alone and paced and even and happy. Instead, I have French.
I'm trying to keep up, but the pressure is.. so much right now. I took a night off and could barely contain the itchy fingers from e-mail, from text books, from the phone, from... anything. I feel like an egg, or an aquaduct, all the pressure on one point, if it slips, I'll crack and crumble.
It's been raining for two days. All I want is to crawl under the covers with tea and books, and leave my window open, and be cold and warm and alone and paced and even and happy. Instead, I have French.
No comments:
Post a Comment