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Yesterday I struggled to feel normal, and quaffed more (x)-quil. I'm almost there, thankfully. This cold is so fired. We didn't do a whole lot, which can be it's own kind of fun. But we did decide to go see a movie, The Fountain. It's very weird and French and beautiful. No there's not an over-abundance of plot, but I love it just for not being the usual explosion-outrunning crap usually foisted upon us. Hugh Jackman did lots of weeping. Today has been more fucking off, but Eric's finally gotten serious about getting his computer room floor ready to paint. So I'm on my own. Maybe I'll jump on the bike; my diet's been suffering and because I've been under the weather I haven't moved myself around enough in the past week.
