Oh sick, sick...

[desperance]

Actually, when Reganeril says "Oh sick, sick," her sister Goneregan replies "If not, I'll ne'er trust medicine." I do not in fact suspect either of my sisters of poisoning me (they're too far away - Cornwall and Orkney - and do in fact evince signs of quite liking me, every now and then), so the quotation could be said to be inapposite; but lordy, I am sick. Went to Durham last night with m'friend Gail, to eat and drink with shewhomust and durham_rambler, and actually came home sooner than stay over, I felt so foul. My chest hurts, without benefit of coughing; there is something naughty going on in there.

And yes, I am going to the doctor. I am going now. I don't really want to leave the house, and the short walk to the surgery is daunting; but I am going. See me go.

Barry's laser-guided toy will have to wait. Now I feel selfish, as well as sick. He has moved his Favourite Place (Office) from the back of the comfy chair (where he dozed all summer long) to a sack of bubble-wrap (better insulation, now there's a chill in the air), and is gazing at me from that corner. Reproachfully.

I am strong. I will resist this. I will not go into town to buy toys. No.

Comments

[triciasullivan.livejournal.com]

There I go, talking about other people's cats and drugs, when I'm the one hallucinating. Could have sworn somebody said 'catnip.'

I'll just go sniff something now.

[desperance.livejournal.com]

Oh, someone did; I did. Just, not here and not to you. (Actually, Barry and I were looking at a video-capture of a cat going entirely crazy chasing a laser-pointer dot, and I said "Look, techno-catnip," and he tried to pluck it out of the screen there and then. He understands every word I say, y'know.) Clearly, LJ heard me, and passed it subliminally on to you. LJ listens...

[triciasullivan.livejournal.com]

Do you think that Barry is secretly controlling LJ? Or possibly the entire web?

[desperance.livejournal.com]

Of course I do - but my thoughts count for nothing, I am an empty shell. He's been controlling me (not so secretly, everybody knows this) for six months now. The last surviving vestige of my self is a whimpering paranoiac huddled in the darkest corner of my mind, whispering don't listen to him, don't look at him, he'll snare you too and you'll never be free...

[shewhomust.livejournal.com]

This sounds like a story that needs to be written...

[desperance.livejournal.com]

I'm fairly sure it's been done already. Surely, it must have been done...? Besides, I don't write autobiography. [Hears cynical snort from lo, those many miles away; holds up hands, confesses, all fiction is autobiography. But I don't write confessional autobiography...]

[triciasullivan.livejournal.com]

LOL!! oh, dear.