i am at home with some kind of sickness and mysterious bites on my wrist. they are massive. my head hurts, my throat hurts, my body hurts--basically everything hurts. i had a paper due today, something that i thought i wrote beautifully, and my mom rushed me to the school, rushed me back and now i am contemplating what i should do. sleep. read. tv. liquids. repeat. (?) my writing is so postmodern in my sick state.
yesterday was, i dunno, one of those really great kind of days. it definitely felt perfect and right and the world was saying, "yes! sarah, you can totally do it!" but now i am ill and it's probably the universe's way of balancing everything out. happy yesterday, sick today, but what about tomorrow? i want it. i want whatever yesterday was and i am going for it.
this year is different. i think it's because i don't change outfits twenty thousand times in a morning anymore. i am comfortable with me. everything is different.
