What is happening?

My hands are so cold. I notice they're tanner though... but no, that's purple. I know they aren't going to warm up until summer. Which I can't fantasize about coming any more quickly than usual because it hasn't even snowed yet. And tomorrow is Christmas Eve. My shoulders are really bitter. And maybe resentful, too. Dr. Mister couldn't realign them yesterday and told me that sleeping on my back will make me feel better. I've also had to stop chewing on my lip because for some weird reason, it gives me headaches. So the slight increase of comfort comes only at the cost of my quirks.

I can also hear my heartbeat. This isn't that annoying because, at the moment, my brother-in-law's guitar and my sister's stories from elementary school give me something else to focus on. But whenever I try to go to sleep, it's never in sync with the clock I set next to my ear. Wait. My sister just asked me to back her up about something and I have no idea what she's talking about. I'm not focusing that well. My ears have been buzzing for the past few months so I can barely notice that anymore. Shoot... until I do notice. The way that my grandma, mom, aunt, and sister tell stories is so similar.

Things are pretty messy. More cluttered, actually. Mom didn't get a tree as big as the one's she usually gets at Christmas, so none of the furniture is moved to accomodate. That means that the presents are essentially sprawled all over the surrounding floor and meld viciously with my sister's jewelry supplies. I see these necklaces and earrings and bracelets and wish that I were woman enough to wear them elegantly. These presents are wrapped so prettily, but I didn't wrap any of them.

I can't really accumulate enough information to write about the last two senses. Those are my least favorite of the five anyways. It may be because I haven't eaten much today and can't taste anything, and also, my nose is too stuffy to smell anything. Ha! Nevermind... Cat just jumped up next to me. His breath reeks.

Okay, one more. I taste.

I taste...

I taste raspberries.

I'm really not fond of raspberries.

"... so, I'm a burden," said the tortoise.

"Not true," said the tortoise's creator, and continued listening to the tortoise's concerns until the tortoise fell asleep.

-rae