Sick = Bored

Bored = writing in this here blog more than once a day.

But all I have to write about is how sick I am. Look: my sinuses are so fuck-fuck-fuckidy-fucking congested, it's making me mental. As soon as I have to breathe through my mouth, I feel like I lose a bunch of IQ points. Not "I feel like I look like," mind you -- I really feel stupider. As long as I am doing some sort of physical activity, sinus function ameliorates. I can breathe through at least one nostril, even if the air going into my sinus causes a raw, searing sensation (which it does). But as soon as I sit, or, worse, lie down, I feel like my sinuses fill with spray foam insulation. I can feel them becoming chubby, dense with impossibly immovable catarrh. This in turn makes me feel panicky. Sleep becomes difficult. Tongue dries out, assumes revolting texture. My left sinus is more prone to draining, which means that with any luck, when lying on my right side, I get passage of air in the left nostril. However, sleeping in my parents' lumpy bed has caused my right hip to ache when I lie on it. Thus, the neck-straining posish of lying on my back, head rotated to the right, to sleep. I read two novels while trying to get to sleep last night. I think a third, by Turgenev, finally proved too much and I dropped off.

And don't even get me get started on the issue of sub-nasal chafage.

In other news, my laptop seems to have crashed.

At least the dog looks extremely cute in her salt-proof booties. Something's gotta get you through the day. And I have no scuba-diving cat to do it for me.

Image courtesy of juveniley entertaining site, Rude Food.

Pee Cola [Ghana]? Fart bar [Poland]? I'm there.