Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Last night I could not fall asleep. I had nothing particular weighing on my mind, just excess energy. I went for a walk near the dorm I lived at freshman year and fell, after having been attacked by a step lurking in the shadows below my feet. I crashed to the ground, landing on my palms and knees, and looked around with what must have been a most comical expression of bewilderment on my face as I caught my breath.
My hands incurred little damage, but my right knee scraped open and became embedded with fibers from my jeans, as I discovered upon examination later. These blue fibers expressed odd reluctance to depart from my skin as I attempted to separate the two during my shower this morning.
Ach! -mein ärmes Haut! I shrieked inwardly, during the process of fiber removal. The wound has yet to scab over, despite having been neatly covered with a generous layer of Neosporin and a bandaid that adheres rather two well to my skin. I am on Bandaid Number Two, having ripped off and replaced Bandaid Number One (with further semi-coherent expletive exclamations auf Deutsch). Practical applications of the German language lend themselves especially well to expressions of pain, fear, and agitation.
All this morning and afternoon I have experienced unusually high physical energy again and meant to expend it on reading a second book of essays (by several different authors) regarding the interpretation of the Greek tragedies, but managed to squander the time allotted me between lecture and lab with devouring a turkey sandwich (bread choice: croissant; cheese choice: Pepper Jack) and a chocolate shake. Beiden haben mir gut geschmeckt: the sandwich was "divinely decadent". After finishing my shift at the office, I shall journey forth for my current evening routine of working out and swimming. I can read on Javier.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 1:49 PM]