Quick note...
In case you haven't heard me whining about it on Snapchat, I'm sick. And therefore drugged up on cough meds, herbal teas, and that surreal, vaguely painful headache that comes with colds and fevers. It's been a very odd day. After having spent about eighty percent of my waking time watching our newly re-acquired Netflix, I sit down with this computer and write in the sunlit brickroom with comfy couches. It just seemed sort of perfect- well not perfect, but the kind of perfect that happens in an imperfect world. My eyes sting, but I'm listening to good, haunting music through my favorite (and only) earbuds, the red ones. It's thanksgiving break and I've recently broken through a serious writer's drought (it wasn't a block so much as a dryness.) There's a sticky-sweet scent of flowers on the air. My hair is wet, half tangled already, and comfortable. A lot of pressure in school is off. My toes aren't cold. There are a lot of things to be thankf