Sick

...in more than one sense of the word. I stayed home sick on Tuesday, and my bed was so magnetic I slept the day away, hoping to kick my low-grade fever.

Gearing up for class starting next week. Psyched and yet sad LizAd is sticking around for the semester. And, apparently, abusing the wall in my sleep. I've got the forehead and forearm bruises to prove it. Yes, I know. It certainly does sound implausible, but Emblem heard the bizarre byproduct of my midnight rage firsthand. Translation: the wall lost.

What other senses, you ask? Well, sick and tired of being taken advantage of, or pushed aside and forgotten. Oh, well. New friends are really gold after all, aren't they? In this case, they certainly will be.

Temporary Soundtrack: Frighteningly enough, none.
Quote Trapped in My Head: "And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts? // Hot ashes for trees? // Hot air for a cool breeze? // Cold comfort for change? // And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?" - from Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd.
What I Learned Today: Well, I kinda knew this, but I'm part of a former secret society. Nifty, yes-no?