My Neighbours Start a Fire

Well, I'm certainly up early today! Bloody three-thirty in the morning, isn't it? Augh. I'm in hell, I think I wasn't feeling well at all today; started having trouble breathing early in the evening, and things went downhill from there. I didn't go out in the rain or anything like that--it was just pure bad luck. By late in the evening, I was in quite a lot of pain, so I decided to have some codeine and go to bed. Even thus drugged, it took me a couple of hours to fall asleep. I couldn't find a comfortable position to lie in, and my hair kept getting in my eyes. I've really got to do something about my bangs.

I think I must have dozed off somewhere around midnight. I had the oddest dream, too. I was wandering the streets looking for a Kinko's, but I couldn't find one. Talk about yuppie angst. Strange as it was, the dream didn't last long--I woke up again at three, with the pain beating away worse than ever. I decided to get in the shower in hopes the steam would ease the congestion. So there I was, all naked and innocent, showering and minding my own business, when there came a terrific yelling and banging on my door. It being three-thirty in the morning by this time, I figured it must be something serious. Accordingly, I put on a towel and opened the door, admitting one of the building's security guards, and a whole lot of smoke. The whole corridor was full of smoke. Moments later, the fire alarm started up, so I threw on a dress, my coat, and a pair of boots and went outside.

The whole thing was over in twenty minutes or so. I'm not sure what happened, but when I arrived back upstairs, there were firemen in the apartment across from mine, putting in a fan to blow away the smoke. I guess my neighbours must've left their electric blanket on, or something. I could hear them talking about getting people out of the hallways as I made my way back to my apartment, so I glared at them and slammed my door quickly before they could make me go back outside again. I wasn't about to get back out on a freezing November night. No way in hell. Of course, it's hardly better in here. It still reeks of smoke (thanks a lot, neighbours!)--and now I'm wide awake, to boot. Wide awake, half-stoned, and honked off. Bloody brilliant. I do feel a little better, though, overall.

Thanks to my lousy health, this has been another singularly unproductive day. I did get the background done on my current greyscale painting, a highly-involved thing with lots of twisted roots, foliage, and footery details--but that was all. I had wanted to get the last of my video edited today, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen. I'm going back to bed once I finish writing this. Although I'm not particularly tired any more, I'm still having trouble sitting up straight. Must be the codeine. It doesn't help at all with my coordination, which is iffy at the best of times. I am very clumsy.

I have some food left over from dinner, a salad. I ordered soup and salad, but I only ate the soup. I was full after I ate the soup. Now, I am debating whether to eat the salad now (I'm not particularly hungry, but it feels wrong to eat one bowl of soup and nothing else all day) or leave it for the morning, when I will be hungry. I don't know. I wouldn't really enjoy it now, not being hungry and all. But the lettuce will be frozen by the morning. When I cleaned my fridge, I noticed that everything in it was frozen. This damn fridge freezes everything. (This is a pathetic thing to agonize over. I have no life at all, do I?)

Well, I'm taking my salad dilemma and heading to bed now, I think. Maybe I'll eat it; maybe I won't. Maybe I'll take a box of crackers with me and do the unthinkable--eat them in bed. Or maybe I'll just catch some much-needed zeds.
One more thing: I've lost at least 100 points on the decency scale today. When I went downstairs during the fire, I forgot to take Shakespeare with me. For shame.