The other night the list of beers was too long, so I chose one called Salvation in a fit of romance. It tasted like cough syrup flavored beer, the way that Cherry Chill tastes like cough syrup flavored gum. I'm starting a collection of cough syrup tastes where no cough syrup belongs. I suspect it's hiding everywhere, waiting for me to find it.

I have been freezing for days. I feel alright at times, but then the cold mysteriously comes back. There's no knowing why. It can't be the temperature, I've been in this temperature before and felt fine in it. I have to assume that it's the shock of fall, that soon I'll settle down and not be so cold. In the meanwhile I just keep putting on more and more clothes. Last night I realized that I had two complete outfits on, one under the other. Two pairs of pants! I felt like a lunatic and temporarily cured myself with a hot bath, but here I am again, freezing. At least I've only got one pair of pants on. One pair of pants and thick socks that come up past my knees. A sweater with elbow patches, just in case.

Speaking of pants, all of my pants are too big all of a sudden. My body seems to me the same as ever, so it must just be the pants. When whoever snuck in here and daylight savingsed me snuck in here and daylight savingsed me, they must have also altered my pants. They missed the closet where I keep my skirts, so I guess it's a good thing I've got so many pairs of tights. Oh, and a winter coat for the first time in a thousand years. Sort of. I love it and it cost nearly nothing, but the sleeves are too big. I'll have to ask Bees for advice. I'll have to consider the possibility that my arms are just the wrong size.

It takes me so long to process some things, too long. I think I'm a ruiner. By the time I think, "Well, maybe it's not so bad, maybe it's just...," everything already feels too far away. Everything seems so far and forgotten. I think sometimes that the worst thing I ever do, the worst thing I always do, is need something that I know someone else needs too and refuse to do anything about it. We all just stand around forever, needing things and keeping our mouths shut, meaning well and still being terrible. A whole lot of ruiners.

Oh! Yesterday I had a traumatic experience involving a box full of dead bugs. It's strange to have the thought, "Well, at least they're all dead," because when would I ever think that except in the case of insects? Anyway, I was rewarded for the horror with a projector and slides, and tonight's activities will include continuing to neglect my attic of a kitchen while enjoying a slideshow of the Cloisters, circa 1984. I've been wanting to go to the Cloisters for months, but Francis convinced me to wait for winter. In the meantime I'll look at slides and listen to the accompanying cassette in the dark, pretending to be in an elementary school classroom. Oh, I've even got the desk for it. Actually, I've got an unreasonable amount of elementary school paraphernalia for someone who has no association with children. It all just slipped past me.

Somehow I've typed myself warm, or maybe the memory of the bugs is scaring me warm. Either way the sweater can come off, but I'd better not fall and skin my elbows or I'll be furious.