#queued this when I had to stop taking it before top surgery

[justletmeon12]

Ibuprofen withdrawal headaches are the worst.

"I have a headache."

"Take some ibuprofen."

No, bitch.

[makethatelevenrings]

Only For You // J. Todd x gn/f!reader

Requested? Yes!

WARNINGS: menstruation (not explicitly stated and not explicitly female!)

Summary: You woke up feeling like shit. If only a certain simp vigilante was there to help.

A/N: apologies for this being short and also for this taking so long! I had emergency surgery and was in the hospital for a few days. I’m home now but I will be recovering for a few weeks so unfortunately I won’t be able to knock these out as much as I would like.

The door to your apartment opened with a quiet creak. You nestled under the blanket some more, not bothering to check who was entering because there was really only one choice. Jason had the place wired with the top security measures known to man and while the bats and birds could easily break in, they respected you enough to know that your apartment was off limits unless it was an absolute emergency.

His boots let out a thud as he kicked them off by the front door and then he made his way further into your shared apartment. Jason must have stopped by a bodega on the way home because you could hear the crinkle of a bag as he walked into the bedroom.

“How we feelin’?” he asked quietly as he crouched down in front of you. You shrugged and he frowned. He reached out to stroke his hand down your shoulder and you relaxed at his warm touch.

You had woken up this morning to the feeling of being hit by a freight train. Your joints ached, your head pounded, cramps twisted painfully at your gut, and the idea of eating anything but a croissant at the coffee shop on the corner sounded unappealing. The idea of dragging yourself out of bed, walking down three flights of stairs, and heading over two blocks just for a croissant.

But then you discovered that your dear darling boyfriend had used up the last of the aspirin and forgot to restock the first aid kits and you promptly burst into tears. Despite your efforts of trying to shuffle out of the bedroom without waking up the exhausted vigilante who had crawled into bed sometime around four in the morning, Jason woke up at the second sniffle that escaped you and was in the bathroom before you could wipe the tears away from your cheeks.

He had taken one look at you, checked the calendar, and pushed you back towards the bed with the promise of being back in less than half an hour.

And Jason Todd always made good on his promise.

“I feel stupid,” you admitted. “I cried over nothing.”

“I’m telling you this because I love you. One time Dick put a lizard in my bed when I was nine and I cried.”

You snorted out a laugh and covered your face to hide your grin but he tugged your hand away and pecked your cheek. You sighed and titled your head back so you were staring at the ceiling. He rubbed a hand against the back of your neck to help relieve tension.

“I got you a tea and a croissant,” he murmured. “And I got more ibuprofen and some Motrin too.”

“Thank you.” You began to sit up but he stopped you with a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Stay,” he ordered. He slid out of the bedroom and you could hear cabinets opening and closing in the kitchen before he reappeared with tea in one hand and one of your cheap plastic Target plates in the other. With a grandiose flourish, he presented the plate for you. You sat up and accepted it with a grin. He disappeared again and returned seconds later with his own plate and tea which he set on his nightstand. Jason set up the heating pad and passed you a bottle of ibuprofen before he laid another kiss against your forehead and slid back under the covers on his side.

“Thank you,” you whispered, craning your head up so you could kiss the underside of his jaw. He harrumphed but a small smile tugged at his lips. He pushed your laptop onto the center of the bed and queued up Netflix.

“Only for you,��� he murmured. You smirked and snuggled closer to his side. The great Red Hood, crime lord extraordinaire, was a total simp.

tag list: @annalayton19​ @tiannamortis​ @khaetiin​ 

[dragonmuse]

If you're still taking prompts - would love to see something around Jim's top surgery in the Leda House 'verse!

Also, thank you so much for your stunning au 'verse - it brings me so much joy. (And thank you in advance if you do write this - and if you don't, thank you anyway!!)

(still taking prompts for sure!! hope this suits)

In the end it was totally worth it, but it only took two days of not being allowed to shower or lift their arms over their head, before Jim was about ready to claw their way through someone else’s skull. Not Oluwande, he’d been great, feeding and watering them at regular intervals and queuing up a lot of entertainment, and mostly accepting their horrible mood. 

Just staying in bed was the worst, but moving around too much was deeply uncomfortable. And everything itched. 

“You’ve got a visitor,” Oluwande ducked his head around the bedroom door. 

“Tell them to go fuck themselves,” they gritted out. 

“Fuck me yourself, coward,” Eddy said merrily, just out of sight. “Or is that against doctor’s orders?” 

“Ugh, fine, let them in.” 

Eddy strolled in, their dove gray cashmere jumper swirling around what looked like silk pajamas. They had a box in one hand and glass of water in the other that Oluwande had ostensibly left for a few minutes ago. 

“Gimmie,” they demanded and Eddy handed it over, then shucked off her shoes, before plonking herself down on the empty side of the bed. She fussed over the pillows for a minute, then settled in. “You moving in?” 

“I’m getting comfortable because you’re a captive audience and I have DVDs.” 

“We don’t own a DVD player,” they said smugly. 

“I figured, so I brought my own,” Eddy pulled out a silver rectangle with a long cord. “Plugs right into my laptop.” 

“You’re a dinosaur.” 

“I’m a dinosaur with a fuckton of bootleg karate movies from the 90s. Want to continue to hate on me or watch ass kicking?” 

“The ass kicking,” they decided quickly. 

They were only twenty minutes into the first film when Eddy fished around in the box and produced a pastry the size of her head, filled with lemon curd. 

“Almost forgot. I flipped the barista off for you too.” 

“Really?” 

“Would I lie about that?” 

And Eddy wouldn’t. Eddy truly had marched into their less preferred coffee shop that Jim loved, ordered their favorite pastry and then continued the war that Jim had had against that one barista (who knew what he had done) out of sheer solidarity. 

“Thanks.” They bit into the pastry, uncaring about the crumbs.  

By dinner, Eddy was gone, but Frenchie and John had arrived. Jim wouldn’t see them in the bedroom, but there was nothing wrong with laying against the back of the couch and listening to all the gossip of the week. 

Jim had been a part of the unofficial rotas before. When Roach broke his arm, they’d dutifully showed up with Oluwande and let him critique their cooking. When the entire fearsome foursome had been taken out by the flu, they’d carried their share of care packages to the front door and waited for signs of life. 

They’d never been on this end before. 

“My mom wants to talk to you.” Oluwande handed them the phone and drifted away before they could protest. 

“Hi, Dolly,” Jim said quietly. 

“Oh hun, how are you doing?” Dolly asked tenderly. “Are you in a lot of pain?” 

“Not anymore, mostly just itchy.” Jim found a stray thread on the hem of their t-shirt and picked at it. 

“You know I had this shoulder surgery years ago and I still remember how it itched when it was healing up,” Dolly clucked. “Terrible, isn’t it? Oluwande said you’re a little on the fence about guests, but I would love to stop by for a bit on Saturday if you’re up for it.” 

Jim didn’t want guests. They didn’t really want anyone to see them laid low and vulnerable. But suddenly, a ferocity of desire for something that was long since lost came to them. They wanted their mother. They wanted her hand on their forehead, cool and comforting like when they had had a fever as a small child.

“You can come,” they said around the lump in your throat. “I...uh...I’d really like that.” 

“Good, good. I can make banana pudding, the kids always like that when they were sick.” 

“Could you-” they started, stopped, swallowed hard. “Would you make that raspberry tart you do instead? If it’s not too much trouble.” 

“Jim, I would love to make it for you,” Dolly said softly. “You know I can’t get the grandkids to eat it?” 

“They don’t know a good thing when they taste it,” Jim declared. 

“We’re in agreement there. You rest up for now and tell my son that he better be taking good care of you.” 

“He’s doing great,” Jim said honestly. 

On Friday, Jim’s phone buzzed and they picked it up with a frown, 

“Yeah?” 

“Are you dead?” Izzy asked suspiciously. 

“No?” 

“Because I texted you three days ago and all you sent me back was a picture of what I think was a seeping wound.” 

“Gross, right?” They snickered. “I’m alive.” 

“Good. Bored enough for paperwork yet?” 

“I really want to say no,” they sighed. 

“You don’t have to do shit, you get sick time, but if you’re already climbing the walls...” 

“Just send it over.” 

“It’s yours. I’ll give you the deposition prep for the Macmillian case too.” 

“I liked the fruit basket,” Jim recalled. “Didn’t know they let you swear in those little cards.” 

“For what they make you pay for pears, they should fucking well better.”  

Over the next few days, they started going out and reclaiming bits of their life. Just to the corner to get their preferred breakfast sandwich or a ride to the bar to at least sit and watch the show for a while. Lucius made them fancy mocktails and let them take as many toothpicks as they wanted for chewing on.  

“Hey,” Teal floated down after the show, a concerned twist to her mouth. “I got a message from the center asking if I could emergency sub in tomorrow, I think I can still get you to the appointment if I say yes, but I don’t want to cut it too close. What if-” 

“It’s fine, I can get a cab or something.” They stabbed at a cherry bobbing in their drink. Oluwande hadn’t done anything but dote on them the past two weeks and he loved volunteering.

“But-” 

“I can take you.” Leda should really not be able to sneak in that many layers of skirts, but she was weirdly far stealthier than she was as Stede. “I rented a car yesterday to pick up a bit of furniture. I knew there was a reason I shouldn’t return it just yet.” 

“Uh,” Teal gave Jim a look. “That work for you?” 

They considered Leda’s towering wig. They could go alone. But they hadn’t bounced right back the way they thought they would. Jim woke up still tired most mornings and by mid-day, they had been curling up for a nap. It was embarrassing, but they were a realist and it would be a lot easier with a driver and someone making sure they got all the doctor’s directions. 

“Yeah, fine. Thanks.” 

They’d said thank you a lot more than they ever had the past two weeks too. Lots of new unfamiliar things.  

Stede was punctual and he took notes during the appointment, politely stepping out for the actual physical exam. He was a fucking gentleman about the whole thing. 

“Would you like to get some lunch?” He offered after. 

“I’m allowed to shower now,” they said firmly. 

“Then let’s get you home and then have lunch,” he said without missing a beat.

Getting clean was fantastic and they were already in a better mood, but then Stede took them to one of the little ridiculous posh restaurants that he liked where the food was served in increasingly unlikely ways and they got to eat popcorn shrimp out of a popcorn maker. 

“That’s Eddy’s favorite too,” Stede laughed. “Do you want the dessert they set on fire?” 

“Stede,” they said gravely. “I’ve never wanted anything more.” 

It was a few more weeks before they could start up throwing knives again. They’d been worried about that leading up to the surgery, but as good as it felt to go back to it, it hadn’t been agony to wait. 

There were worse things than getting fed their favorite things, given movies they liked and to have Dolly come over with a raspberry tart and give them a kiss on the forehead. 

And one day, they got to stand in front of the mirror and see the person they knew they were look back. 

“I think I’ll get the scars tattooed eventually,” they told Oluwande when he came to admire it with them. 

“Yeah? We could paint them for now, try on somethings you like.” 

“Let’s do that.” They pivoted on their heels and kissed him with conviction. Nothing came between them.

[kayejwrotes]

PROMPTS. WUH. Ok, so Iwaoi (of course) with Oikawa having a bad day and not being able to sleep then, so at 3am he still sits in the kitchen with nothing to do. So Iwa comes, pulls him up and they slow dance to Be Good by Tom Rosenthal. You're welcome~. 🌼

Like always, I don’t know where to stop, and I’ll post all these little drabbles at snail-pace if I can’t keep them like drabbles. Anyway, thank you for this precious headcanon darling. It came out incredibly soft and angsty, especially in the beginning. I hope you’ll like it anyway! :)

You can read it here or on ao3!

A bad day. It happens to anyone, especially when you come off from a long shift at the ER and there was a big incident on the highway, all the injured were hauled at the hospital where you are interning in and there was lots of blood, people screaming and crying, confusion… The tickling of the clock a background for the minutes trickling away, dividing human beings from life to death.

It wasn’t the first time it happened since Tooru started working there, but the truth is, he had yet to see kids injured like that. It was the worst, he wasn’t prepared for it. There had been this big car crash. A truck had lost control on the wet highway and collided with some of the cars queued one after another because of the Friday evening traffic. It was a few days before Christmas and lots of people were already going to mountain’s resorts and such to enjoy their vacations.

There was this family, they were going to ski, parents taking their children to the mountain for winter for the first time and all that shit.

They were probably at half of the long line of cars, but the tail of the truck had hit their car nonetheless, taking away half of the frontal part.

Their father had been driving. It was now in the IC unit, while nurses and doctors prepared him for surgery.

Their mother had been sitting next to their father and had ended up having one of her legs smashed in between metal bars.

She was already in surgery, being stitched and repaired as much as they could.

The kids had been lucky. Buckled correctly with their seat belts, they had managed to get out of the incident with only a few light bruises and scratches.

The most Tooru had to do on them was bandaging up the older one’s hand while the younger one clung quietly at his brother’s hoodie.

Tooru had tried to chat with them while he cleaned their bruises, trying to have them focus on himself and his smiling, reassuring face, instead of the flap-door that led to the surgery unit connected with the ER.

They hadn’t uttered a word. Not a single one. And Tooru had felt utterly useless, while he watched despair slowly trickle in the eyes of the older kid. He had stayed strong and calm for his little brother until that moment, but now that his face was hidden against his hoodie, some emotion was showing in his eyes.

He had wanted to hug them but there were too many patients to see, too many to be checked and they couldn’t wait.

He couldn’t do anything for these kids. It wasn’t something he could bandage and disinfect and he’d be sure the damage would be repaired. It wasn’t even his place to do that, honestly, but the eyes of that kid didn’t leave him once his shift had ended.

Even when he had come home, the thought never left him.

Hajime had already been in their bed, engrossed in some new spy novel he had found at the library last week. He had kissed Tooru while the other announced he was going to take a shower tossing his dirty scrubs in their laundry basket, and he noticed something was off, but Tooru had been so quick he hadn’t thought much about it.

Maybe just some stress from the long shift in the ER. It wasn’t that impossible, considering Tooru had only started working there a few months ago. It took time to become accustomed to things like that.

He hadn’t thought much about it, not even when he had felt his eyes close while trying to flip to the next page. Tooru was still showering and Hajime was dying for some quality sleep. His boyfriend would surely come to bed in a while, and there wasn’t anything wrong with him falling asleep first.

Tooru’s arms would be around him in a few minutes after he had fallen asleep. 

Except, Tooru’s arms never came. Or to be more accurate, he felt them sneak around his middle, face smashed between his shoulder blades as usual, but at some point Tooru started tossing and turning and in the end he had sat up on their mattress, leaving Hajime to listen to the faint thud of Tooru’s feet on the floor toward the door of their bedroom.

He had waited, awake in the dark because not even he could go back asleep after the mess Tooru had done with all his restlessness.

After a while, though, waiting was just boring and so Hajime too had left the warmth on their bed.A glance at the clock on his bedside table told him it was 3:17 in the morning.What the fuck was Tooru doing in their kitchen, that was beyond himself when Hajime found himself following the yellowish light from the lamp on their kitchen table, lighting the small portion of corridor where the door had been left open.

He had wanted to say something like “ come back to bed, it’s 3 am what the fuck are you doing up” but the expression on Tooru’s face just let him know it wasn’t the right thing to do.

Maybe there was more than just a long day at work going on, but his boyfriend didn’t seem in the mood to talk about whatever was keeping him from sleeping.

“Hey” his voice came out rough from sleep, tired, while he entered their kitchen, stopping beside Tooru.

His head whipped toward the sound of Hajime’s voice, but he stayed on his high chair, not really doing any other movement.“What’s up? Can’t you sleep?” “Not really.” it was Tooru laconic answer, a shrug of his shoulders told Hajime more than the other probably wanted to let him see.

Hajime shifted, resting his hands on the counter behind himself, and maybe he was still a bit sleepy, maybe he had forgotten again about the damned radio they kept there, but his fingers hit the button and the radio lighted up, suddenly soft music playing in the background.

They both jumped at the unexpected sound, but thank God it wasn’t heavy metal but the soft sound of guitars and something else. It was almost comforting.

Shaking his hand in front of himself, Hajime called him.

“Come here”.

Tooru looked at him as if saying “I’m right here” but he took the hand anyway, and Hajime lifted him up, fingers entwining while his other hand found place on Tooru’s hip.

Tooru looked at him a little dumbfounded, not understanding at first what Hajime was trying to do, but when he felt his bare feet being nudged left and Hajime spin lightly, he simply followed.

He didn’t know the song, but it was calm, soft strings and quiet voices. Hajime shifted his hand quickly from his hip to the nape of his neck, gently guiding him to rest his head on his shoulder, and Tooru complied.

He’d say a sarcastic comment at any other moment, a pun, something about how Hajime moved like a log of wood or whatever, but tonight it was different.

Hajime’s neck smelled like the aftershave he had gifted him for his birthday and Tooru found himself nuzzling his nose against the soft skin, right hand warm in Hajime’s soft grasp while the other rested peacefully on his chest.

He took a deep breath, the warm sensation of Hajime’s body against his own already working wonders on him.

He closed his eyes, rocking slowly at the rhythm Hajime had chosen, and he felt himself relax at every new turn, every new circle the pad of Hajime’s thumb made on the skin of his hip.

“You know… this song seems like it was made for you” the rumble of Hajime’s voice sounded even better when he was pressed like that against him, when he murmured after a while.

“ ‘Turn it all around, let that frown upside down’…” Hajime sang a bit off key, a smile in his voice that Tooru couldn’t see but he felt it on his skin anyway.

“I’m not the grumpy one in our relationship, you know” Tooru whispered quietly back as if annoyed by Hajime’s words, but hugged him tighter, hiding his face more in the comforting space in between Hajime’s neck and shoulder.

“Good to know. I love you even when you’re grumpy or sad, but I like you more when you’re so annoyingly happy I can’t help but smile with you too.”

Tooru didn’t say anything this time, silence filling again their kitchen, while they slowly turned again. The music had changed but they were still moving at the same rhythm as before.

After a few moments, Hajime felt something warm and wet trickle on his skin, Tooru holding him in a vice-like grip, but he didn’t say anything about it. If that was what he needed, it was okay. Hajime’d be there for him.

If Tooru didn’t want to share it, it was okay. He’d be there to pull him up, regardless.

Hajime hugged him more, kissing lightly the top of his head.

“Do you want too…”

“No… Let’s… Let’s just stay like this a little bit more.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

[elle-stevens]

The Break Up Blog - Day Thirty Nine

This is getting harder and harder to do every day. 

Don’t get me wrong, keeping a blog about my feeling since breaking up with X has been helpful and even cathartic to an extent. But dredging up every moment in my memory and every feeling that comes with it is exhausting. 

I slept alright save for the hours when I kept waking up and stressing about class. Every Friday, the students now have to write a diary entry in the books that C designed. Simple in theory, right? Except the elementary students at our school seem to genuinely have zero English skills. Or they have the requisite skills, but get completely flustered when they actually have to use it, kinda like me and my ambiguous relationship with Mandarin. 

So I changed the topics for grades 3 and 4 and thought that simplifying their task would help by writing vocabulary on the board. It kinda worked with grade 3 and all the students in my class managed to write a few sentences each. 

But grade 4? 

For 40 minutes, I sincerely thought that I was in a zoo and all the wild animals had gotten loose. One of my autistic students had a very OCD day and wouldn’t stop shouting out ‘The bus isn’t here!’ in Korean, too many of my boys were queuing up in front of the classroom computer to use the online dictionary. And of course, SB had a dumb fight with with another student, E, and legit walked out of my class and slammed the door on top of it. 

I’d love to say that the latter pissed me off simply because SB was in the middle of it. But he’s actually been relatively well-behaved in class in the last two weeks, almost like he’s had a lobotomy. And honestly, by the time he pulled that crap on me, I was too exhausted and dumb-founded to take offence. Now that I’m thinking on it now, I definitely need to tell SH about what happened in class. I hate to bother her about it because she already has to deal with this nonsense as their homeroom teacher, but I’ve just had it with the total disregard for my authority in class. 

I was forced to sit in the grade 6 homeroom and wait for them even though I knew they wouldn’t make it for class while having their school event during the day. I don’t get why the homeroom teachers force the foreign teachers to hang about like chumps during school events in the unlikelihood that the event will finish early and we’ll be able to pick up the slack with the dregs of the class period? It’s starting to feel like I went back to university two years ago and got a teaching certificate for nothing. I’m just an over-glorified babysitter at this point in my life and it sucks. 

N came to find me while I kept the grade 6 classroom warm (or chilled in this case because the afternoon was hot af). She wanted to have her ‘official’ conversation with me about renewing my contract at the school. I did change things up a bit when N mentioned tried to persuade me to consider applying for a teaching position in the high school department of our school. I initially wanted to do that months ago, but ML was pretty adamant that I was unable to change the terms of my contract since my school only hires high school teachers in the second semester and my contract ends in February next year. Never mind the fact that I initially interviewed for a high school position at my school before coming to my city, but got recruited into the elementary department at the last second when one of the teachers broke his contract in the middle of the school year. But who really cares about minor details like that? 

I told N I’d keep an open mind about it if she could swing things for me to work teach high school instead. I stopped considering it before when I thought that ML would stay in the managerial position for another year. But C told me that ML’s going back to Korea next year, so working under a new manager might actually be better. H might get pissed off at me for switching departments though; she’d probably take it as a personal affront to her management style. It is in part because of that, but honestly, I’m just done in general with this school. It’s too much bullshit layered with bullshit at every turn. 

After my meeting with N, I went back to my office, only for H to talk to me about a punishment I gave my fifth graders two days when they wouldn’t shut up in class. Instead of disciplining the students in my own way, H suggested that I turn the classroom in a democracy and let the students decide on their own punishments and rewards in the near future. It’s a great idea in theory, but now that I think about it, it’s basically an FU to the teacher. As it turns out, I’m pretty much irrelevant in my own classroom. 

And people actually wonder why teachers want to leave this school...

I saw N and ML talking out of the corner of my eye while H talked to me. I guess N gave ML the ‘good news’ about me wanting to leave. I could care less at this point. H’s eyes looked strangely red-rimmed during our talk, like she was seconds away from crying. I wonder if she heard about my news already? Who knows and honestly, who cares at this point? 

I’m over it. 

Still, I sat with CI at lunch and we had a good talk about our different classroom woes. He’s become a really good work buddy, I’m glad that C picked him out from a sea of what was probably a lot of crap teachers. Even talking to N about some of my minor grievances helped too. I even found time during the day to perform surgery on a clay doll one of my third grade girls made that had its leg and sword hilt (I don’t know what kids are into these days, lol) ripped off by her classmate. I went home to get my glue gun because the departmental ones are suddenly missing and I sutured the old sport’s injuries. Then I left said doll in the third grade homeroom, I hope my little chica finds it there. 

All of this dumb shit that happened - It’s ok really when I think about it. Now I know that I’m done with being treated this way. Good luck to my school principal with finding teachers that are half as competent and caring as C, me and even CI, even though he’s staying another year. 

After all the fuckery at work and the number that X pulled on me, I’m done with people taking me for a James Blunt in my professional and personal capacities.

‘James Blunt’ in this case is British rhyming slang. Do yourself a favour and look it up, it’ll give you a good laugh. 

I may look like a ‘James Blunt’, I may even act like a ‘James Blunt’ when I’m taking the piss. But don’t get it twisted: I am not a fucking James Blunt by any stretch of the imagination.  You can’t fuck with me and expect me to treat you the same way ever again. 

It only needs to happen once. And after that, I’m done with you. I may smile at you and even help you with things from time to time. But I will never open myself up to you again. 

That’s what happened to X in the end and I can see how it will happen with some of my current colleagues as the months progress. I thought it was kind of C watching C and H’s friendship turn to shit in real time when H became our manager. But I get how it happened: when you get a little of anything good, it makes you selfish and you end up turning on the people around you. 

I did that when I dated X. She became the centre of my universe and I lost track of everything and everyone. I even had a huge fight with P and G because of X when I used too much bandwidth from the family router to video call X every day for a year. 

That was a really bad fight and the way my siblings looked at me while it happened still haunts me. It’s like they saw me, but an uglier version, and they didn’t like it one bit. 

I shudder when I think of that memory, especially when it was all for nothing with X. I nearly lost my relationship with my brother and sister over X. And what the fuck was even the point of it all? 

I don’t ever want to be that way again the next time I fall in love. I want to go into the whole affair with my eyes completely open. 

There were some positives at work. Besides having some good heart-to-hearts, my colleagues really liked the coconut tarts I baked for them. Even if they were just blowing smoke up my ass, it felt good to hear the compliments and know that I’m not sucking at this too. 

I’m feeling really tired today, so I hope I have enough energy to exercise in a little while. I ordered dinner from a chicken restaurant below my apartment complex, I’ll cook something tomorrow. Since R wants me to charge me an arm and a leg for a physiotherapy consultation, I made an appointment at a local clinic tomorrow instead so a doctor can look at my right arm that keeps twinging whenever I move it. I hope someone speaks English there, I’m tired of floundering about like a beached whale with zero Chinese speaking skills. 

My sinuses are still pestering me, but not as bad as before. I still have to check through my student diaries this weekend and mark and correct them. That’s a problem that can wait till tomorrow after I’ve had a good night’s sleep. D’s birthday gift finally arrived, I also have to figure out when I can drop it off at her apartment. 

I just want to rest this weekend and not think about anything. After Sunday, I’ll be done with my current workout programme; I might switch to something simpler like swimming after this. 

I’m just done. 

My body and brain need a proper rest. 

I might stop writing these blog entries after Sunday is over, I’ll see how I feel. Right now, I don’t want to think and just drift off deeper into myself.