My usual range is around 97-98. Which is what it is now, at least according to this thermometer.
Spike's Bitches 44: It's about the rules having changed.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
I'm glad you got warmer, Hil. I admit to mother-henning, there. But when one of the residents gets that low, I have to take action, and I was a bit concerned that you were there alone, no one to look out for you.
one more hour to go. Not that I have a ton to look forward to. I gotta come in on my day off tomorrow to have a meeting with the folks about the new building. But sleeeeeep! I look forward to sleeeeeeep! (wow, that sounds like Smeagol)
Glad you're OK too, vw.
omnis, darling, I do feel the need to tell you again just how wonderful you are and how much I love you. You're under a lot of stress, and in Shir's world, it's alright to let some steam out every once in a while, especially under these terms, and on the ones who are making you feel that stress and frustration in the first place. Don't linger in the guilt. I'd kill most of your coworkers by now, if it were me doing your work.
Feel better, Hil.
But sleeeeeep! I look forward to sleeeeeeep!
Mmmm, Fluffy.
Mmmm, Fluffy.Ha! Ya, last night, I didn't fight fluffy. I figured, if the idiot box puts me to sleep, let it. So I set it to a timer, passed out in about 30-40 minutes, and stayed there till 6am. Then climbed into bed for the last few hours of sleep. It was basically hitting snooze on the first alarm for me. It's probably a bad thing, sleeping in the recliner. But my back and neck didn't hurt, and I actually *slept*! So, I figured, why not. At least for this stressful week.
You see? Fluffy is good for you.
Glad you catched some sleep.
holy cow I've just come back from the most amazing show. Jazz funk blues with a burlesque floor show. Sunday nights at Harvelles in Santa Monica. At one point I turned to D and said, "maybe we actually died on the way here."
Gronk. I'm feeling a bit better. Sinuses still hurt, but it's bearable, and I still feel kind of nauseated, but it's more that I just don't want to eat anything than like I'm running for the bathroom every ten minutes like I was last night. Temp is still 98. My mom's telling me to go to the health center and get antibiotics for the sinuses, but I know that they won't give anything if I don't have a fever, so I think I'm just going to get some rest and see how I'm doing later this afternoon.
There was a talk at the JCC tonight that I really wanted to go to -- Deborah Lipstadt -- but no way am I feeling well enough for that. Feh.
OK, I need to breathe.
My lecturer opened the first class after the vacation this morning with 30 minutes of "what you did wrong" on our papers. Somewhat harsh, but only in the way that it seem he really took to the heart every dot that wasn't in place. Which makes him superb academic beta reader, and a harsh one.
After the class I found out he never got my paper (I handed it to the secretariat - he never mentioned if it should go directly to him, or to them), and expects me to shine and break the chain of papers he read, that led him "to depression".
I actually said "I crumble under pressure".
Dear God. I really hope not to get skinned on this. I tried to do my best, given the other 3 papers and 7 other finals I had that time, and I think (hope) I did well. I'm rereading it, and I like the way I'm phrasing stuff, but I know he can see right through those things.
gulp