I'm getting hard of hearing.
You know the whirring sound as you walk past sensors in stores; specifically the sound of the capacitor discharging and spooling up again? I can no longer hear that. I've also cranked up the volume for my mp3 player and speakers (a little).
Guessed I've sneezed+coughed my eardrums out. It feels like the pressure inside my head is higher than that of outside. I think a cure would be diving somewhere deep. Perhaps a 5 metre (vertical) pool.
Sometimes I'm not sure if it's right to say that I'm sick of routine life or am I just having the PBS (pre book-in syndrome) every sunday night. Fascinating isn't it. More than sixty weeks already and I still cringe at the thought of going back. Even more so, knowing that I go home everday.
Tomorrow's like a quarter day for me. I'm excused from running. So the day starts at 7.30 but work starts at 10. And I'm leaving at noon for MRI scan in the afternoon.
Still. I can't get over the fact that I've got to go back. go back.
Once inside I just switch off. And my timer rings when it's about 5 in the evening. My morale slips as the clock moves closer to 5.30. And it drops exponentially when the minute hand goes past 5.30.
And oh. I'm feeling perpetually hungry. I've not had anything tasty or sweet in the past four days. No carbo at all except for spaghetti this afternoon. I think it's a sign that my body wants to revert to my original constitution but. I would like to oppose that.
My amos cookies are out cold in the fridge.
You know the whirring sound as you walk past sensors in stores; specifically the sound of the capacitor discharging and spooling up again? I can no longer hear that. I've also cranked up the volume for my mp3 player and speakers (a little).
Guessed I've sneezed+coughed my eardrums out. It feels like the pressure inside my head is higher than that of outside. I think a cure would be diving somewhere deep. Perhaps a 5 metre (vertical) pool.
Sometimes I'm not sure if it's right to say that I'm sick of routine life or am I just having the PBS (pre book-in syndrome) every sunday night. Fascinating isn't it. More than sixty weeks already and I still cringe at the thought of going back. Even more so, knowing that I go home everday.
Tomorrow's like a quarter day for me. I'm excused from running. So the day starts at 7.30 but work starts at 10. And I'm leaving at noon for MRI scan in the afternoon.
Still. I can't get over the fact that I've got to go back. go back.
Once inside I just switch off. And my timer rings when it's about 5 in the evening. My morale slips as the clock moves closer to 5.30. And it drops exponentially when the minute hand goes past 5.30.
And oh. I'm feeling perpetually hungry. I've not had anything tasty or sweet in the past four days. No carbo at all except for spaghetti this afternoon. I think it's a sign that my body wants to revert to my original constitution but. I would like to oppose that.
My amos cookies are out cold in the fridge.
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