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House on poo corner

Was awakened in the middle of the night with horrible intestinal pain, akin to bad gas, but much more severe. Severe enough that I was considering a hospital visit. It did pass, though that may be a bad choice of words. The thing that kept me from it was thinking of wiredferret and the pain that she endures. And I feel all wimpy for a few hours of intestinal discomfort.
This morning, I awoke with a blasting headache. Sinusy. Still there, so I'm wondering if I got caught with a bug.


Yesterday was pretty bad. On the job-hunt front, the really nice job that I had interviewed for may not come to pass at all, as one of their larger clients is having an unplanned layoff, and they are trying to reshuffle their existing employees. Also the audio engineer job looks like a bust, as I can't even get a call back from the creative director, and the only other job that I was hopeful about has ceased all contact. Currently, I have zero prospects. Not a good place to be. Combine that with YetAnotherPhoneCall from a creditor wanting money, along with a short lecture of how I need to pay, even though I don't have the money, and how many different ways I could try to get money (borrow, sell something, pay us instead of someone else).

Last night, I experienced a bout of despair. I had forgotten what it was like to go that deep. It was strangely comforting-- I spent a long period of my life feeling like that-- and scary at the same time. Scary because somewhere down in all the pain and loneliness was a tiny little kernel of joy, like the hurt went so deep that it wrapped around into happiness. It was like a drug, like I wanted to stay there because even though there was pain and lonliness, it was mine, and nobody else could get there, and I was... protected.

I think this might be how insanity starts.

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