so i have pneumonia and it is terrible. i have spent over 100 dollars on this damn sickness in the past three days but that's not even the worst part; pneumonia is boring and lonely and a downright waste of my time. i have been writing when the pain in my chest is bearable and when i can go five minutes without coughing but those moments are so few and far between. i'm just far too restless to lie in bed all day. thank god for kerouac and vonnegut though; i've been attempting to finish On the Road (my attention span is that of a three year old) and i started reading Look at the Birdie. perhaps I'll finish both books tonight. i slept entirely too much last night and today.

anyway. that's all.

i should go do a breathing treatment.

goldfish are going to make me fat.

i need to decide what i'm going to write for my non-fiction piece. perhaps i'll just have to go out and do something new.

i'm really hoping i can get in to the second level poetry workshop this semester. i'm not looking forward to taking fiction just yet.

i'm not intimidating.