Just what I needed.
Jul. 25th, 2004 07:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ysobelleThere are few things on this planet I need so much as a pathetic excuse to feel sorry for myself, yet here I have one, handed to me on a plate.
I feel awful.
I don't mean my usual angst and drama. I mean I physically feel awful. I was fine, fine, fine yesterday morning. Woke up with a touch of sore throat, but that's not unusual in my arid apartment. Some time around mid-day, I realised my sore throat should have been long gone, but was steadily creeping up in virulence. At first, I merely used it as a great excuse to buy ice cream-- which the fabulous kid at the shop across from us gave me gratis (a dollar in that tip jar) but shortly thereafter I found myself sitting in our microscopic back room at the store blanking out.
My shopping list at RiteAid on the way home: milk, as I was out, then a box of tissues, Thera-Flu, Ricola drops, acetaminophen, and six cans of chicken soup. I'm off until Tuesday anyway, which is good, but I now discover I have to go out, as I'm completely out of dog food, and Clue's not good with the ordering in yet.
Can't sleep. Can't breathe. Can't swallow. But oh, I can whine! I'm great with that!
Bought a print here, though, in the spirit of doing something for someone else when you're too whiny-ass to do something for yourself.
http://donate.studio3dom.com/
This is my friend Jeff Klaum, funky fetishy photographer and fellow Rhinelander. The Powers That Be seem to be having a nummy time beating the karmic and financial crap out of him. I mean, we've all done things that, in hindsight, we would have changed. I have a friend who made News of the Stupid all over the planet a couple of months ago, and will probably never work in his chosen field again-- though he should have KNOWN. Personally, well-- I think everyone knows my history of ill-chosen paths. But to me, Jeff's situation isn't even comparable. Jeff may have miscalculated slightly, but nothing he's done remotely warrants the astonishing legal battering he's been getting. I look at his situation, and I think, well, there but for the grace of G-d....
So go. Buy a print.
I feel awful.
I don't mean my usual angst and drama. I mean I physically feel awful. I was fine, fine, fine yesterday morning. Woke up with a touch of sore throat, but that's not unusual in my arid apartment. Some time around mid-day, I realised my sore throat should have been long gone, but was steadily creeping up in virulence. At first, I merely used it as a great excuse to buy ice cream-- which the fabulous kid at the shop across from us gave me gratis (a dollar in that tip jar) but shortly thereafter I found myself sitting in our microscopic back room at the store blanking out.
My shopping list at RiteAid on the way home: milk, as I was out, then a box of tissues, Thera-Flu, Ricola drops, acetaminophen, and six cans of chicken soup. I'm off until Tuesday anyway, which is good, but I now discover I have to go out, as I'm completely out of dog food, and Clue's not good with the ordering in yet.
Can't sleep. Can't breathe. Can't swallow. But oh, I can whine! I'm great with that!
Bought a print here, though, in the spirit of doing something for someone else when you're too whiny-ass to do something for yourself.
http://donate.studio3dom.com/
This is my friend Jeff Klaum, funky fetishy photographer and fellow Rhinelander. The Powers That Be seem to be having a nummy time beating the karmic and financial crap out of him. I mean, we've all done things that, in hindsight, we would have changed. I have a friend who made News of the Stupid all over the planet a couple of months ago, and will probably never work in his chosen field again-- though he should have KNOWN. Personally, well-- I think everyone knows my history of ill-chosen paths. But to me, Jeff's situation isn't even comparable. Jeff may have miscalculated slightly, but nothing he's done remotely warrants the astonishing legal battering he's been getting. I look at his situation, and I think, well, there but for the grace of G-d....
So go. Buy a print.