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Same old same old - with WIND!

After almost two weeks of battling this stupid-pants low-grade cold and constant migraine-y state, I realized that if I'm going to get over it, I can't run the air conditioner at night. The way my bedroom is set up is that the AC blows directly onto my face, even though I've moved the little vent things in it toward the middle of the room. Of course, the bedroom is just small enough that I can't move my bed anywhere else, and I don't want the AC in the kitchen windows, because all it'd do is cool off, oh, say, the OVEN. Yeah. And no, I will not move my bed into the living room. I'm really not into that whole crazy-ass "bed in the living room/fridge in the bathroom/toilet on the ceiling" lifestyle. Not yet, anyway...

So: I now have five fans running in the apartment, including the AC, which is running on "lame-ass break like the wind" speed instead of "sweet jebus why can't this be ALASKA?" speed. On the one hand, my cold is gone, hooray! On the other hand, there seems to be a ridonkulous amount of papers and underwears whirling around in the apartment. There are dust devils in the bathroom, some kind of mini-North Pacific Trash Gyre is floating in lazy circles in my living room, and my hair LOOKS LIKE THIS:

wtf my HAIR!

On the third hand (because I'm a mutant), the constant heat is causing me to lose my appetite for anything other than ice cubes, and forcing me back to the gym, so I'm starting to lose weight again. Which, come to think of it, is worrisome. I might have to start tying myself to the furniture if these fans keep up with their tornadoyness. I think I just saw Herbert in drag, flying past the window on a bike...


Marine Autumn

I owe you marine autumn
With dankness at its roots
and fog like a grape
and the graceful sun of the country;
and the silent space
in which sorrows lose themselves
and only the bright crown
of joy comes to the surface.

--Pablo Neruda.

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