Sunday

Not much going on around here today. I watched a Muse concert (Reading '06-it's a beauty of a performance) and got thoroughly hepped up when Matt Bellamy went down on his knees with the guitar, as if I hadn't seen the concert three times already. Sheesh. Some days I worry myself about myself...

But you have to admit, that IS a pretty sweet move when it's done right (I've seen clips of him overbalance and have to push himself back up with his head because his hands were still busy playing the guitar. Which just makes me admire the man all the more.)

Anyway, I did get some homework done today; I think I'm set for tomorrow.

Everything is sort of twinging tonight so I think this entry's going to be frightfully short. I'm already on quite a bit of ibuprofen so that I can sleep tonight, because the thing that comes foremost to your mind when you're attempting to get comfortable is, "Damn, I hurt." This doesn't help you sleep in the slightest; it's just useless information that you were already perfectly aware of and didn't need reminding of, because in reminding you about what you were trying to forget, the pain, however annoying, gets more so when you are trying to ignore it.

Round and round we go, until you get out of the bed and placate the beast with enough ibuprofen to knock the pain out of the way so you can sleep so you don't hurt like hell tomorrow.

And now my hands are hating me. Sorry for all the whining again.

Cheers,
Bec