I've been toying with the idea of reinstating a visit to the Starbucks a floor below me on Friday mornings. I'm turning my own offer down. Still not nearly feeling like the old April (am functional, am slightly crazy, am still rather dizzy and fighting the weird sensations running along my shoulders and down my back), so what right do I have to further modify me with caffeine and sugar? I can't claim the right. If I'm barely getting from 8:00-4:00 as it is. (I'm BARELY getting there). And also, I can tell myself this is in my control but I'm not really sure anymore (ask my cuticles), I have been biting into my lower lip all day, every day. The last time I tried to drink something hot the heat of the mug seared straight through the thin, patchy skin on my lip and made me cringe. It very well made me cry. Like everything does. Ask the healing gunshot wound and Jonathan Safran Foer.
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