Musings from a Madhouse

Musings from a sickhouse may be a more appropriate title. I've got a small mountain of dirty tissues beside my computer, and my aim at throwing multiple tissues into the garbage can four feet away from me is quickly improving. All I know is that I'd better stop coughing sometime soon or Mom'll be able to hear me in Florida. Everyone living in my house knows you're doomed if you've got a cough and you're within a 50 mile radius of her. I think the lack of nutritious food here really is starting to be a problem. Every once in a while I break down and eat the perfect square that they label "beef", and sometimes if I'm really lucky they have a piece of chicken breast that actually looks like it came from a live animal once. I've stopped eating pasta, and I'm working on giving up my croissant in the morning, but I know that once I do that I'll start getting really hungry during Massimo's class. Unfortunately, that man picks on me enough-- I don't need my angry stomach drawing more attention. I think I need more vegetables. Well, a greater variety of nutritious vegetables-- not potatoes and rubbery carrots. I'm just tired all the time, even when I shouldn't be, and my fingernails are getting flimsy and breaking (which is unusual, because I've always had really strong nails), and the worst part is I'm sick. The other night I woke up in the middle of the night and my entire body was shaking from cold. The only problem is we sleep with the window closed and the heater on because Saki has no body fat (I, on the other hand, need it to be a refreshing 70 degrees in my room to sleep comfortably). And when I woke up, I had on flannel pants, a sweatshirt, socks, and two heavy blankets! Usually I sleep in a tank top and pants with only the sheet on. As for sleeping all the time...well, on Monday I came back from my first Spanish guy class to take a short nap before my second one (I have two hours between those classes), and I woke up at 6pm. That's a problem, because my hour and a half long class ends at 6:30. This resulted in being picked on by the Spanish guy during yesterday's first class, but mercifully he left me alone during the second one. Maybe the fact that I turn red and squirm in my seat every time I'm called on gave him a little clue that I'm not a fan of being tortured. Oh well, at least I've only got two classes left and then I can spend tonight and tomorrow asleep in the hopes of recovering (well, with the rude interruption of the cleaning ladies at 9am tomorrow). Saturday the plan is to go to Padua and Verona. It's an ambitious plan, but as long as we get an early start it should be good. Last night I spent longer than I should've in planning the rest of the Prague trip, but it was semi-successful: we now have train tickets to get there, a hostel to stay in, and are in the final stages of booking airfare back. I wish Italian Expedia.com would cooperate and let us use a non-Italian credit card without having to call them up. But that is how the cookie crumbles.