I know you’re not supposed to take other people’s medications, but I finally broke down and begged the fiancée for some pain medication last night so I could get some work done. As a result, I was finally comfortable for the first time since Saturday, but I was also tripping balls hardcore.
Just an example: I was having fever-dreams that involved the Emperor of Man from Warhammer 40K being reincarnated as a tarrasque. If you don’t have any idea what I’m talking about, thank your lucky stars. It’s also sad that this was probably one of my most lucid moments over the past few days.
I can’t reliably say that the haze has been completely lifted yet. Luckily, I rarely get sick. However, when I do, I’m laid low for days at a time in the special Hell usually reserved for pedophiles and people who pronounce “library” as “liberry.” Yes, I’m a snob when it comes to vocabulary and grammar, but I’ve got the thousands in student loan debt from an MA in English, so I’m completely justified in my grammatical bigotry. Hell, I wince whenever I hear someone pronounce something in Anglo-Saxon wrong.
However, the absolute worst one for me – guaranteed to catapult me into the heights of Asperger Syndrome rage – is when people misinterpret “Wherefore art thou, Romeo?” to mean, “Where are you, Romeo?” For some reason this one just rustles my jimmies to the point of incalculable Early Modern English rage. For fuck’s sake, people, “wherefore” is an archaic form of the word “why.” Juliet is lamenting the fact that Romeo is a Montague, a member of the family currently feuding with her own, the Capulets. It’s got nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with Juliet pining away for his location.
All right, I need to stop before I go into full-blown academic nerd rage mode. Besides, those pain meds are still in my system and I’m still not thinking completely clearly. Hopefully tomorrow will see the subsidence of whatever hellish plague I contracted over the weekend. If not, look forward to more drugged ramblings!