tuckova

Yesterday I had 200 Kc credit mysteriously added to my phone. One of my numerous fans, I assumed. About an hour later a stranger called to say she'd made a mistake and could I send the credit back to her? She seemed not entirely convinced I would do it. In the store, the clerk forgot to charge me for the credit and I almost walked out before I realized and went back, giving her the 200 Kc. I can only hope that sooner or later someone will succeed in just handing me 200 Kc because I'm awesome, and not because they're confused. It does seem like the karma wants me to have it.

Yesterday evening's pub quiz (where I went despite sort of knowing it was a bad idea, healthwise) was fun. And yes, we won again, duh. It helps to have savants on the team, is my thought. I mean, knowing the band Boy George played for is child's play, and the twin ship of the Mauretania is fairly easy, but to identify a few bars of Neil Young's Heart of Gold played backwards takes a certain kind of brain. It does not help to have me being sick, because everything irritates the heck out of me, from other players to factual mistakes in the questions, and it's hard for me to remember that it is my problem, and not that the world conspires to annoy me. Anyway, winning team gets half off on drinks. I stuck to hot whiskey with lemon for the throat, which probably kept things from getting worse.

Last night I dreamed someone was yelling at me and it was awful; trapped in a house with less space to maneuver than an airplane and being shouted at to get out of the way. I wished to be smaller than a dormouse but even that would have been in the way. When I tried to speak, I found had no voice at all, and when I woke that was true, and my general malaise had escalated into a fever.  

Drifting in and out of fever dreams all day today, then. I fell asleep in a sunbeam today and woke up an hour later, disoriented, in a different sunbeam. Read some Gertrude Stein because it fit and drifted again, dreaming of circles. The next time I woke up, the little old couple across the street had assumed their afternoon stations at the window, watching the traffic pass, pedestrian and other. Can they see me through the window, resting in these dusty shafts of light, and if so do they think I am lazy or ill? Perhaps both.

Squire is at the store. Today he will learn to make chicken soup because both my previous chicken soup makers are gone and I need a back up plan. It might be better to teach him to make hot and sour soup, which I think is what might actually cure me, but we'll start with the basics so he can take care of people besides me. Generously expanding the resume. I'm thoughtful, even when my head is on fire.