So today, Saturday, I haven't coughed much. And it is amazing how those few hours -- from about 4:00 to 11:00 (now) make me feel like my life might not be entirely over or entirely a waste. I didn't work today. I didn't get stressed (as much). I did do a TON of paperwork for school -- quiet work. . I could have a job pushing papers, being quiet, and I might be okay.

I also know that my new doctor is looking into the possibility that yet another auto-immune disease is the cause of my cough.  So, I started researching as well. It just might be something called Sjogren's Sydrome. That gives me a tiny bit of hope, because it's not the worst disease ever, and at least it would be a diagnosis.

If I go back to work on Monday, and the cough is just as bad as last week, I'm going to ask for a leave of absence. A rest after all these days of coughing might just keep me sane.

So, really though, now that I feel better, I'm here to say: I love Vera Farmiga.

Does that seem like an odd digression? No, no it's not. This is my place. I can write whatever I want. Put up pictures I want. Digress all over the place. Break all the grammar rules. Use the word "really." It's really amazing. Writing straight from my disordered mind is a life-affirming experience. I'm a little bit happy right now.

And yet, here I am. I love this place. It's all mine.

Running away, let's do it.

I know someone who doesn't even understand what an English teacher's dream Into the Woods is.

Sometimes people leave you
Halfway through the wood.

I need some boar jerky.

I want out so bad that it might just literally (and I know how to use the word literally properly) kill me. Or maybe I want it to.

I could just move to Michigan or Iowa or even better, Western PA.

Man oh man oh man. I scroll down and see that I used to feel good about stuff.