Not horribly sick, just slightly so

Dear reader,






I'm sick. Not horribly sick, just slightly so. But I still feel phlegmatic and out of sorts. You know that gravelly, sandpapery feeling you get in your throat when you're fighting a flu or fever? I hate that feeling. It's so undermining...it makes you feel subhuman, as if you've morphed from a perfectly average, functioning member of society into some sort of husky-voiced, achy-jointed, mucus-filled excuse for a human being. There's some sort of flu epidemic going around here, everybody's getting sick lately. I think I'll be relatively well by tomorrow, though.


I stayed home today on the pretence that I was too ill to get out of bed. Honestly, I was just too tired and lazy to deal with...everything. I walked into the kitchen earlier today, at around noon--my hunger effectively bringing me out of my comatose state--and my mother said she thought I had classes, were they cancelled? As an afterthought, probably remembering me complain yesterday that I wasn't feeling well, she asked me if I was sick. I answered her and my voice sounded quite unlike itself, surprising me for a second. I croaked, "Of all the days to be sick, Monday is the best because I only have one class."

Oh, as a side note, there was a lovely storm today. There was thunder and lightning everywhere, intermingled with the sound of heavy rain beating down on the roof. Pity it didn't last longer, though. I know I've said it before, but I'll say it again: I love rainstorms.


I have a presentation on Wednesday. I hope my voice reverts back to its usual pitch before then. It's distracting, having a strange sounding voice come out of your mouth, then realizing a split second later that its actually your own. I haven't even finished up the slides yet. But then, what else is new? It's only English anyway. My topic is: Technology promotes laziness and is creating 'dumber' generations. Yeah. Not the juiciest presentation topic out there, but I chose it myself, so I have absolutely no excuse. I went through my outline with my English lecturer last Friday, having only just finished and printed the thing minutes before showing it to her. Incidentally, she's quite an interesting character...as most of the English lecturers in Swinburne seem to be. There was this one English teacher in my school as well, who I can only describe as eccentric. I wonder why all us word-lovers (all these English teachers and lecturers, at one point or another, have expressed an interest in linguistics) manage to find each other. It's like we're drawn to one another. Like Anne Shirley and her kindred spirits. 


So anyway, once I finished explaining to her what I planned on saying in each slide--I was winging it quite desperately at this point--she told me that I was on a different wavelength than my classmates. 
Oh, dear, I thought to myself. Is that a good thing?
I asked her as much: "Is that a good thing?"
She assured me it was. She said I was a very thoughtful person, whereas she noticed my classmates were more of the touch-n-go variety. I wisely kept my thoughts to myself; I was having flashbacks of me frantically rushing through my main points, sifting through web page after web page for relevant information, staggering down to the library to print the darn thing off, almost having a conniption waiting in line for the printer, then jogging to the next block and up two floors to arrive in her class, a whole half an hour late.

So I'm not touch-n-go, eh? If you say so, Madam Lecturer. Needless to say, I was flattered by her comment. I'm glad someone thinks I'm a thoughtful person. I'd rather be thoughtful and quiet than noisy and silly any day. Not that these qualities are mutually exclusive. You can be thoughtful and silly at the same time. I consider myself to come under this category.

Well. I suppose that's all I have to say for today. I'll catch you later, dear reader. Til next time, I remain...



Yours,



Figgy the Phlegmatic