Tar and Chinese food

Fucking hiccups. That happens to me from time to time after I eat. Now my chest hurts in addition to the headache/achiness I have. The Commons reeked of roofing tar making the Chinese food I had taste odd. It didn&#039t help that I&#039ve felt well, off most of the day. I don&#039t think it&#039s fatigue though it may be. Stress? Probably, but when does that ever go away? I&#039ll tell you when: never.

I spent the better part of this morning working on the planner and my e-mails. I got some article-hunting done for the thesis as well before leaving for lunch to stop by the bank and then the library for yet more books (I think I already have fifteen or so checked out and in a stack on the floor in the living room) on morphology and insults. I told Heather I&#039d help this afternoon with student scheduling, but with the way I feel, I really just want to go to sleep or lie down somewhere awhile. I don&#039t suppose it helps my mood much that I&#039m reading a diet book that, while it gives me hope that I might lose weight, also simply reminds me about how much extra weight I&#039m carrying and how grotesque I feel as a result. I suppose I&#039d be more accepting of my weight if I were always overweight, but I wasn&#039t. I was thin for a good long while, and thin enough to where the lady in the Counseling Center gave me brochures on anorexia when I went in for help with depression. Thin. Something I lost longer back than my virginity, which unlike the virginity, I&#039m trying to get back. The headache and weariness aren&#039t making my mood improve, that&#039s for sure. Oh well. I ranted more than I meant to (wanted a quickie about the headache and tar-smelling food), so I&#039m gonna wander off now.