Great in oh eight.

I've been dreaming about death lately. I don't know if that's so much the fault of morbidity, or moreso the fault of one Neil Gaiman. I do know that taking advil pm works, and will make the sore throat non-existant. It will also make it hard to open your eyes while you're running blindly from dreams where a strange, moustached man tells you the skin he bit off of the back of your upper arm tastes "so very sweet". I forget the details of his face structure, but those all black eyes got burned into my retinas. They kind of smiled when he did, like Santa's.

This hacking cough is driving me insane. I've been sick since wednesday, but the sore throat and cough have hung around. It's times like these I wish I had taken the option of benefits my employer offers. The Boyfriend said they weren't worth the money I'd pay for them, but until he becomes The Husband I have to think of what I need to calm my nerves, if not my body. It'd be so nice to just go into the doctor's office and order a barrage of tests and just make sure everything's ok.

I get this feeling a lot, but I feel like I'm on the verge of something. I've got a job I can tolerate, a boyfriend I can just be me around, and an apartment I'm half responsible for. I'm excited for a year to start letting things happen. Hopefully this year I can get my license, get a car, get a house with The Boyfriend, and get a great dane.

happy new year.