Blast this cold.

I hate colds.

Colds suck ass.

Or, as I can only pronounce it now: Coldth thuck ath!

So, life is life.

Life continues on in a pattering of nonsense; we all try and make sense of the chaos rather than embrace it as it is.

Agh, my nose is running again.

I think I need a hot bath, and a cup of tea.

And a hug.

But there's no one home at the moment.

Not that I would hug my parents. I think I've hugged my dad twice in my life.

Well, twice after my, like, eleventh birthday.

I was never much of a touchy kid.

Physically, anyway.

I was always very emotionally touchy. I cried over everything. I still do, I think.

I read somewhere that left handed people tend to be more emotional than right handed people.

I think I can attest to that.

Also, they tend to be messier, more creative, and generally have higher IQ's.

Well, my room is a chaotic jumble of god-only-knows-what.

I've gotten very high marks in all my arts related classes.

I don't know about the IQ thing, but both my parents are members of Mensa? Does that count for anything?

Eh, probably not.

Gads. I have to sneeze.

But I can't.

I hate that.

Now I go to bathe, and drink tea, and get out of my house coat which I've been lazing around in all day.

Maybe my mother is right.

Maybe I am lazy.

Hm.

Imagine that.

.

Rosie.

Before&After