And I am not frightened of dying. Any time will do; I don't mind.
Why should I be frightened of dying? There's no reason for it—you've gotta go sometime.
I never said I was frightened of dying.

Monday 2 August 2010

Blah...

I am not having a good day today. I feel all funny and not myself. As if somebody has stuffed a load of those fluffy cotton wool balls into my cranial cavity, after removing my brain.

My memory is terrible, I am miserable, intolerant, snappy and dazed. I ache all over and feel drowsy and just YUCK!

POOR LITTLE EMILY!