Monday. Ah, yes. Life. I remember it. Not sure I'll do anything more ambitious than stay in the apartment today now that I've returned from breakfast and a brief trip to Safeway for hand soap, but I began to suspect last night that things were wrapping up with the cold as thoughts of little projects that might be accomplished kept arising like sugarplums in my head. Actually, has anyone out there ever seen a sugarplum? Something they did once in England, but the Sugarplum company was bought by Nestle and Nestle at some point decided to drop the brand? Anyway, some indication the worst is definitely over and all that remains is a feeling of being very tired. If that makes sense.

Nothing here makes sense. A mirror, unfortunately, of the world.

One does not want to be too cutting edge lest one should fall over it.

Later. A trip to Seven-Eleven for comfort food. It's New Year's Eve, comfort food is allowed. Besides, I haven't been eating much of anything over the last four days. And I was hungry. What kind of comfort food? You don't want to know.

Later still. Ten-thirty. The comfort food turns out to have been not so comfortable after all, the stomach queasy; still the cough, still the borderline lungs, too warm to the point of wearing a damp t-shirt that needs to be replaced. The idea of staying up until midnight hasn't even crossed my mind, I got out of bed to cough a few times and drink some water, back to bed now to sing my songs and say my prayers. Still more than an hour til 2008.