(no subject)

and life reaches out to me with one iron claw and rips a ragged gash through my heart

(no subject)

Honestly, I'm not sure which is worse: Being up late at night because my stomach is too upset for me to sleep, or having nasty nightmares as I did last night.

I'm not used to nightmares. Ever since I was about 12 years old, I've averaged one true nightmare every 4 years or so. I rather enjoyed going to bed with the near-certainty that, whatever my dreams held, they wouldn't make me miserable for the entire following day. Sure, I'd have dreams that were plenty freaky, twisted, highly memorable, occasionally nearly-unmentionable; but I didn't have dreams that made me afraid to go to sleep.

As if the antibiotic side effects these last two months weren't enough, I had to start having nightmares too. Bah. At least Thursday night's only left me shaking for most of the day Friday, as opposed to another recent nightmare which left me with a migraine. Bah I say. My unconscious doesn't fight fair.

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On a more pleasant note, I did get through to a couple of the necessary bureaucrats this past week, so maybe I won't starve to death before I can find a paying job. And I was rather amused to learn at school today that the work I'd been doing without monetary compensation simply hasn't been done while I've been under the weather/side effects. They so need to hire somebody who knows what they're doing and doesn't have anything better to do.