I'm going to warn you now. Some of you are going to finish reading this entry and scream TMI. ("Too much information!" for the abbreviationally-challenged.) If you keep reading past this point, it's all your fault if you're offended. It's my stinkin' journal, for goodness' sake.

I'm thinking of going back on the pill. I've been off for ten months now—and yes, it does take me a while to come to decisions like this, hush! I'm still not totally sure I'll do anything about it; perhaps I'm waiting for things to get so annoying that I feel I have to get back on the pills NOW or it's all going to drive me crazy.My prescription lapsed in January. For those of you who remember, I was finishing up at my helljob at the credit union in January. I didn't have enough time to curl up in a ball and cry, much less get to a doctor.

A snippet of lyric from the song currently playing:

it possesses me controls me it makes me run and it makes me kill

Today I admitted defeat. I came in early—at 8:30—and left many many hours early—around 11:00 by my count. I was exhausted, bleary, and feeling worse by the hour. So I took my work with me and went home.

I stopped by the grocery store on the way home and bought a few sundries (milk, munchies, something for dinner tomorrow).

I petted the cats, settled down to work at the computer for a little while after eating some food, and then realized that my exhaustion wasn't going to go away if I didn't rest. So I decided to take a nap—and woke up three hours later.I probably could have gone back to sleep. It was difficult to wake up. I remember opening my eyes and trying to fight my way out of what felt like a thick fog. I don't know how long it took for me to actually wake up, but it was quite a while. It helped that the cats were swirling around me and meowing.

This is Day Two of "Extremely Tired Amy"[tm]. Last night I went to bed at something like eight-thirty, because I was wiped out. I've done a little better tonight—10:15—but I can feel the tireds creeping in on me, and I know that as soon as I curl up in bed, I'm going to go to sleep.

It's worrying me a bit, because I know that someone at work was sent home with influenza today. I'm just trying to rest and take care of myself in the meantime.

Other news: it's official. While it's been official for some time now that I was going to D.C. for my vacation, it turns out that I'm going to be spending my birthday in one of the few major American cities I've not yet been to—New York City.

ohmygosh.

A little better now, yep. Thanks, Heather, for dropping me an email. It was nice to get a human's input on all of this.

I've got thirty minutes to go, and then I can go home. I haven't quite decided what I'm going to do this evening. I doubt it will be computer-related. I got all the needed repotting done yesterday (yay for catnip and creeping thyme!) and did some pretty heavy trimming of the airplane plant. It should—hopefully—start recovering soon.

More rain today. It's got to be frustrating for the farmers here in northeast Alabama—no rain all through the growing season, and just as they start to bring in what little cotton grew here this summer, the deluge (courtesy of tropical depression Helene) comes.

Sean is being kind enough to loan me his extensive CD collection for today. I'm using this quiet morning to create new CDs to listen to at work. This pleases me immensely. If you've peeked in on the catcam then you know that I spend most of my working day with my headphones on. New music is always welcome.

I've got a dishwasher full of dishes that need doing now. I'll get to them in a little while; Jeff is still sleeping and I'd hate to wake him up. So I'm in here, writing a domesticat entry a bit earlier in the day than usual.

Brad pointed me to his site yesterday. His ranting commentary for September 22nd contained a paragraph that really just summed up why I've done my best to keep this guy in my life since first corresponding with him in 1994: