The ragtags of a rotten education

[desperance]

My school refused to let me study Latin, but even so: these fragments I have shored up against my ruin. I've been feeling not quite well all day; my chest aches as though I had an infection, tho' I'm not coughing and I haven't wheezed today, and my head is kinda spacey and my limbs are kinda slow. I have been working, but mostly I just wanna lie on the sofa and read. Also, I put on a long-sleeved T-shirt, of my own free will; I was cold today.

So I have changed my painkiller of choice, on the grounds that paracetamol/acetominophen is a known febrifuge; and as I swallowed pills, I took a little warm glow of pleasure at the thought that I knew the word "febrifuge", and where it comes from, how it's built, who builded it. And its synonym, the antipyretic. Words are a lovely thing, and a very ready help in trouble, a companion and a comfort.

Except my own, except my own, except my own. *snips out another sentence*