I can't sleep. Something about laying down really fucks with my lungs. I got this sickness about a week ago. First symptoms were dizziness and slight out-of-body-ness, with a little cough. Now all the scary shit is gone, and I'm left with a pain-in-the-ass cough. Big, hacking, roaring coughs. Retching coughs. Lovely stuff. I left the room because, although Rios covers herself with a blanket, I can tell that she has trouble sleeping with all the noise. I'll probably sleep on the couch.
I've been on a steady diet of Robitussin, but the cough persists. I wonder what this would be like w/o the Tussin...wonder if there would be any difference. My chest is shiny, slathered in Vapo-Rub. I'm sucking on a cough drop. The tingle is fading, a little.
Found out today that I have 10 days of vay-kay saved up, which is fantastic news. I'll be able to get some good writing done, catch up on school, clean the house, and have some real quality time with the wife and dog. Which is great, because now it feels like everything is half-assed. There is so much going on that everything is last minute.
I just read the new graphic novel written by Jonathan Ames, "The Alcoholic." I love Jonathan Ames. His writing is straightforward, and I think that's why it's so compelling. The point is never far away. The art is by a guy named Dean Haspiel, and it's very good.