you know you're sick when you start dreaming about election politics...

[thanate]

Apparently I need more than 8 hours of sleep with this project. And today when I was very tired, and then got a headache, and started feeling sick to my stomach as well, I decided to be sensible and go home. And I slept for a while, and my head hurts less, but my insides are still kind of eeh, and despite drinking things I still feel dehydrated. Which at this point I ought not to be. Possibly I am vilely ill, but if so I don't know where I got it from, since these symptoms don't sound like anything other people have had recently. Of course it's probably a bad sign that I feel like I'd rather be sick because that means I can stay home and sleep all day. Sigh.

So instead we have a thing I started at work for no particular reason:

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There was a war going on in heaven the year David turned sixteen. This wasn't too unusual; the gods had been fighting on and off for most of his life, and for the most part people just went on with their lives, because what else could you do? You learned to be careful with electricity and fire and running water, in case it was one of those days when the laws of physics weren't working properly. You got used to the news reports on the radio about people hit with lightning out of a clear sky, or villages that got swallowed up by earth or water, but it wasn't as if there was any way to prevent that kind of thing; if you were in the way of the gods, ducking wasn't going to help much. For most people you maybe lost a co-worker or a classmate or someone you sort of knew once in a while, but it was just the way things were.

David had never really thought too much about it; he was far more worried about passing his classes and getting the attention of the cute girl who sat in front of him in biology. You were careful about gods the same way you were careful about not getting run over by a bus, but the really bad stuff didn't happen to you. Though sometimes you wished it would happen to your obnoxious little brother, or that one guy from the rival high school's gladiatorial team who always beat you by about fifteen points.

Comments

hope you don't mind....

[grauwulf.livejournal.com]

So for David life continued in a way that was for him completely normal. Not being terribly disposed to a life of adolescent academia David's spectrum of visible light eschewed the concepts of color and took on the various aspects of the life he was living, and was intending to live. Pass the exams. Articulate from the generalized studies. Eventually get that demented hazard machine to work (to dash with anybody who says that hazard can't be focused which was everybody.) Find his way into the royal academy. All of these things somehow managed to be focus through the prism of Corona's presence and thusly diffused to her effluent luminescence. Occasionally she was known to spin her amber lochs and offer a word of automated greetings before settling into her chair at the heavy wooden lab station desks. These grandiose musings were constantly tempered with the knowledge that while it may not help duck when the gods are being flip with each other, a small bob of the body could be difference between a close call and a decapitation when it comes to the exchange jibs between rival high school clique factions.