My stomach is still screwed up from the food poisoning. I'm bloated and still rather pained but I brought loads of healthy food with me to work today so I should be alright.

Load up on the fibre, you know?

Anyway, not angry at the moment, or at least dealing? I'm not sure. It was a strange morning, to say the least. I had to be awake at 6am to check whether or not the buses were running, because if not, I'd have to ride my bike. Lucky me, they were running so I went back to sleep for an hour and a half. Sleep is always strange when I'm not on the meds.

Waking up is an entirely different ordeal because I don't have the false stimulants to jerk me into reality. I surface gradually, like a submarine coming up from the depths. There's that space between sleep and waking where your brain is conscious of itself and you, but your body is not quite there yet. So you couldn't move if you tried, nor would you want to. It's very comfortable, there. It feels good to lie in this bodiless state for as long as possible, but eventually you come to your senses.

Then on the way in, the bus took a strange detour for apparently no reason. It took an extra ten minutes, and though I left on time, i was still late. Turns out someone died on Granville street this morning. There was some sort of accident and they closed the road. I just had the paranoid attack that it was Tromley on his bike. Great now I'm going to worry.

Someone dying, though it happens a hundred times in a day, never sits well with me. Stranger? Doesn't matter. I don't like to hear about other people's pain because I feel it too.

My dying, different story. I don't mind. But it's other people missing their parents or sibling or loved one that gets me. I wouldn't want to be them.

Now I'm in a bit of a haze here at work, waiting for lunch time. Waiting for the day to end. It's going by rather slowly, for a monday, but I'll survive I think.

I look forward to the weekend already.