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As predicted
It's not eleven in the morning yet and already the predictions for the day are fulfilling themselves.
Lack of sleep has turned my eyeballs to dry, dusty pebbles that grate and scrape whenever I blink or in anyway move them. I ache from the tips iof my fingers to the nape of my neck and if I close my eyes for a second too long I can feel myself nodding off. The only time I cannot sleep, it seems, is at night in bed. I seem to be hot, too, though thed weather is quite clearly much cooler than of late and I am anyway in an air -conditioned office. I think my humours are in imbalance, though which of the blood, yellow bile, black bile or phlegm needs draining off is anyone's guess. Doctors don't hold much store by this eminently sensible system any more. Quacks.
Of course, being one averse to being prodded and punctured at the best of times, I should be more grateful that medical science has moved on. I don't want anything drained, ta very much. Maybe not quacks, then; a bit more respect. Mountebanks and charlatans, perhaps.
Again, I am too stern with them, too disrespectful. Especially as a day or two more of this and I shall be in need of potions, ungents or linaments from said august profession.
Lack of sleep has turned my eyeballs to dry, dusty pebbles that grate and scrape whenever I blink or in anyway move them. I ache from the tips iof my fingers to the nape of my neck and if I close my eyes for a second too long I can feel myself nodding off. The only time I cannot sleep, it seems, is at night in bed. I seem to be hot, too, though thed weather is quite clearly much cooler than of late and I am anyway in an air -conditioned office. I think my humours are in imbalance, though which of the blood, yellow bile, black bile or phlegm needs draining off is anyone's guess. Doctors don't hold much store by this eminently sensible system any more. Quacks.
Of course, being one averse to being prodded and punctured at the best of times, I should be more grateful that medical science has moved on. I don't want anything drained, ta very much. Maybe not quacks, then; a bit more respect. Mountebanks and charlatans, perhaps.
Again, I am too stern with them, too disrespectful. Especially as a day or two more of this and I shall be in need of potions, ungents or linaments from said august profession.
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If you want sweet dreams, add a teaspoon of sugar to the water, although over time this will give you a fat brain.
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