"History Won't Care at All..."

As soon as I post this, everybody is going to jump on me and go SOUJIN YOU NINNY, but... ngg. I don't think I've been eating properly since Mum left. All right, all right, I know I haven't. But I'm all dizzy and sleepy all the time, really constantly, in fact it's hard to type properly even right now, and my extremities feel funny and my eyes keep getting starbursts. It's--bizarre. Oh, and I keep losing my balance. But, really, I mean, I've eaten to-day. I had two pieces of diet toast with jam on for breakfast, and a cup of green peas and a bit of granola for lunch... I mean, frankly, I've eaten too much. But all the same, I'm toppling.

Ah, well. >_> Support group to-night. I think perhaps I'll go to sleep until then.

Ohhhh, but, Zara, I found a song you must at least hear the lyrics too, even if I've not got a recording of it. It's so Hamlet/Cleo/Beelzebub. ^_^ And it's from a really wonderful musical.

"And, Little Man, Little Lola Wants You..."

Ohhh, Lordy, I found an old story I wrote when I first started working. It's very--peculiar. Hee. I'm looking through my old writing right now, though, and mostly it's just scarring.

( working in a nursing home one-hundred years into the future )

~~~

Also I found the novel I wrote for gileonnen, 'Margaret-Rose', that I never gave to her because Mum didn't like it. In retrospect I'm glad. >_> It's a dreadful novel.

*ramble ramble FAILING TO GO TO SLEEP ramble*

--Oh, my lord, and this little Captain N. short that I wrote, the first one to star Deinde.

( bonding with les miserables )

~~~

Eheeeee, and my old Stock story about how much his poetry failed! ^_______________^

( in which everybody is wildly out of character )

~~~

All right, stopping now. I have successfully failed to find the Peter Pan musical. Perhaps I shall just work more on the story I'm procrastinating on, or write my Harbert/Rina fic. ^____^ Harbert/Rina is the ultimate OTP, by the way. Even moreso than Gideon/Cosette.

"Thursday Watch the Walls Instead..."

*shifty eyes* I have 666 e-mails in my trash bin.

Also, conversation:

Him: *answers the 'phone* HI?
Me: Hi! Is Mum there? Can I talk to her?
Him: Who?
Me: Kay. She there?
Him: Oh, no, she's out somewhere. With them. Er. Doing something.
Her, in the background: WHO'S CALLING? NOBODY SHOULD BE CALLING! WE'RE NOT HOME!
Him: Who are you?
Me: Your granddaughter.
Him: My grandfather?
Me: Soujin.
Him: Oh.
Her: WE'RE NOT HOME! BILL! IS THE TELEPHONE RINGING?
Him: How's your dad?
Me: Fine. So can you ask Mum to call me when she gets home?
Him: Sure. How's your dad?
Me: I love you, Granddaddy.
Him: Oh. Okay. *hangs up*

Support group was nice. We have a new lady named Crystal. She looks like Emma Thompson, as far as I'm concerned. I like her. We talked about learning to drive and growing tomatoes.