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Crepuscular

I haven’t gotten better. I still feel terrible. I’ve had a mild fever since Wednesday. Some congestion and a sore throat with the occasional light-headedness. Today I found that my temperature has returned to normal (below normal, actually), but I otherwise wouldn’t have been able to tell. I still feel miserable. Not lie-in-the-recliner-all-day-and-watch-TV miserable, but pretty bad nonetheless. For example, too miserable to do homework.

So my body has given up on fighting this disease or whatever it is. I don’t know how else these symptoms are going to go away, but they have to go somehow. There’s no end in sight. I’m willing to bet they’ll be around until this Wednesday at the earliest. But if I felt 50% better tomorrow, I’d be ecstatic.

Thanksgiving was good, though. It was a good time to reflect on what I’m thankful for. I’m especially thankful that I have Natasha to talk to. Just thinking about her makes me feel better.

My mom was going to take my sister to the zoo yesterday, so I went along. (She’s the same age as me. She just wanted to go to the zoo, okay?) We went to the Dreher Park Zoo (now called the Palm Beach Zoo at Dreher Park [warning: annoying sound]). I guess it’s good that they changed the name because I had no idea how to spell “Dreher” when I was looking up the hours and prices. (“Dreher” rhymes with “bear,” by the way.) Anyway, we spent a few hours there, gazing at the weird and wonderful birds and beasts. It was a pretty nice zoo, although it seemed a little inhumane to see the animals in their cages. I guess I’ve gotten used to Metrozoo, where there aren’t any cages.

It was nice to go out, though. I had a good time. I learned that the capybara is the world’s largest living rodent. Plus, when reading that Reeves’s muntjac is mainly active at dawn and dusk, I was able to say that they’re crepuscular. (Special thanks to Brian for teaching me that guinea pigs are crepuscular.)

Today is a birthday party for my friend Michelle. She’s 18 today. (Funny how all of my friends are turning 18, and I’ll be 17 until the summer. Actually, it’s not funny.) I had no idea what to get her, but then I thought of something. That’s pretty fortunate because I usually can’t think of what gifts to get people. I predict that a good time will be had by all.

Alyssa Peterson was a 27-year-old Army interrogator serving in Iraq. She objected to the inhumane techniques that the prisoners were subjected to. But her complaints fell on deaf ears. Weeks later, she committed suicide. Read part one and part two of the article.

Oh, those clever crows.

One year ago: “People have been dying in bathrooms since ancient times.”
Two years ago: “Merry Christmas!”
Three years ago: “Why he hadn’t used a roll’s worth of film in that camera for 3 or 4 years is well beyond me.”