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| Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image Duet AI software |
I’m feeling much better, thank you very much. It’s been pretty hard to get to
sleep, which has sometimes been all right, because I’ve not had anywhere to
go, but that hasn’t been true every single day since I got here. I’ve had an
itchy and sore throat, so I cough, and then just make it even more sore. I
believe that my landlord can’t hear me all the way up here, but I don’t know
that for sure, and I’m afraid to ask her. I probably should ask her, though,
since she would be able to explain it. My guess is that, when I lie down,
fluids start moving in different directions, which is why it hurts more, but I
don’t really know. She’s been off work for the last few days, and as a medical
professional, in a particularly high need of a real good night’s rest every
time, she should be able to expect me to work hard to put a stop to my
constant disruptions. I generally don’t like to take drugs, but I’ll do it
when I have to. When I was in my mid-twenties(?) I didn’t know the difference
between a teaspoon and a tablespoon. I thought I was taking twice the
recommended amount of nighttime cough syrup, but it turned out to be six
times. It’s the only time I was ever intoxicated. I did not like it one bit,
and I’ve never repeated the incident. Until last night, sort of. The tiny
bottle of the strong stuff that my landlord had didn’t have any sort of fill
cup. There wasn’t much left, so I figured I could eyeball five milliliters—or
rather, tongueball it—but I was wrong. I ended up with twice the amount, but
didn’t get to sleep any easier, and I never felt drunk. I probably really
should have asked her about it, huh? It’s not my fault, I took too much cough
syrup!
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