silverflight8: bee on rose  (Default)
[personal profile] silverflight8
I feel like I've stepped in a timewarp or something.

Last week on Tuesday I felt yucky and ill (the "ergh must I get up? it hurrrts" sentiment), but it was over by the next day. I continued to hack and produce copious amounts of mucus, but I didn't actually feel sick.

And this morning I got up and felt exactly like last Tuesday. Except it's Wednesday of the next week, and I've never had a cold that's skipped precisely six days and then attacked me again. I conclude that someone switched around October 13 and October 6. Obviously.

And in my mind all day was the poem (the last lines have a tendency to stick):

THE WATCH

Frances Cornford (1886-1960)

I wakened on my hot, hard bed,
Upon the pillow lay my head;
Beneath the pillow I could hear
My little watch was ticking clear.
I thought the throbbing of it went
Like my continual discontent;
I thought it said in every tick:
I am so sick, so sick, so sick;
O death, come quick, come quick, come quick,
Come quick, come quick, come quick, come quick.

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silverflight8: bee on rose  (Default)
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