Much Too Young

to feel this damned old. Yeah, I know--not the best of starts, quoting a Garth Brooks song. But it's almost 5AM, and I could, at this point, really care less. (Stupid saying, that one...shouldn't it be I couldn't care less? Whatever.)

I'm having one of those nights where it seems that my body has been possessed by something else...a pod moment, if you will: like the bod's the pod and my mind is operating completely independently of it, strangely amused but bewildered by the whole thing. I mean, I have never had allergies in my life. In my life. To anything. And yet now I have reached a level of congestion that is keeping me up at night, making me ill in the morning, but magically disappears with the periodic application of allergy meds. The strange aural hypersensitivity? Where I can hear pitches from, say, a television that's on when the cable box isn't? And the noise doesn't just annoy--it makes me sick to my stomach? Also gone with the decongestants, which makes me think that it, too, is sinus related. Have I mentioned that I have never been allergic to anything in my life?

That said, I blame Indiana. Whatever is contaminating the air around here, natural or not, is quite literally ruining my life. MY LIFE, PEOPLE! Forget to take one round of pills, and you're up until all hours waiting for the make-up round to kick in, blogging about congestion. A new low, even for me.

But at least Jake is comfortable. Woke up this morning and he was perched right on my hip. I was sleeping on my left side, and he was playing Dominique Dawes on my hip. Granted, not as big a challenge as the balance beam, to be sure, but still. I iwas imipressed. And now he's rubbing his face all over the computer. I love living in a cat house. Particularly one in which the cat in question doesn't drool all over me.

T-34 hours and counting until football returns to ND. The Lions, hopefully, are preparing for the pasting they are about to receive.


Song of the moment: "God Beyond All Praising" to the tune of Thaxted, better known from Holst's Jupiter

Then hear, O Gracious Saviour, accept the love we bring;

that we, who know Your favour may serve You as our King.

And whether our tomorrows be filled with good or ill,

we'll triumph through our sorrows and rise to bless You still;

to marvel at Your beauty and glory in Your ways,

and make a joyful duty our sacrifice of praise.