Richard Brook

I started taking Zyrtech yesterday because my allergies have got so bad that it gets to the point that I actually can't see from how badly my eyes would water. Ten tiny little milligrams of it.

It says 'may cause drowsiness,' which okay. Things do that. I took the tablet around 9am, and made it til about 3pm before it I was damn near falling asleep at my keyboard. So I figured I'd go take a bath and maybe try to wake up a bit, since that does actually tend to help.

The next thing I know, it's 2am and I'm in bed. I think Ryan put me there, because I don't remember going there under my own steam. Or maybe I did and just don't remember.

The point is, holy fuck.


Now I'm starting to get a bit stuffed up again, but I can't take another tablet until around 9am. Because it says on the label. And I can definitely see why.

I have changed the circumstances of this story about eight times, and I haven't liked any of the versions. I may have to ask for an extension. I don't want to ask for an extension. Fu.

Right now, I'm curled up on my mum's sofa with like, three blankets and my new coat. I got a new coat, because while my existing coat is a lovely coat, it's not quite big enough to wear over a hoodie or curl up in properly. This new one, I picked up at the Salvation Army yesterday, for $8.00. It's a bit long in the sleeves, but I have a good tailor. The really impressive thing is that it's a London Fog coat, and one that's been out of production for a while, but which I managed to price at slightly over $200. I sort of love when thrift shops don't know what sort of treasures they've got on their racks.

I also picked up the novel of Wonder Boys yesterday. It took me a while to get over Chabon's style, and I still can't quite decide if I like the novel for what it is, or just because it's proof that film adaptations can follow the book. But where it differs, it really differs. I can't quite tell what the hell the relationship between Tripp and Crabtree is supposed to be in this thing. I also think Crabtree may have OCD. That, or he's just generically completely mad.


Speaking of different, everything up here is. I suppose this is what happens when you only come home once a year, at most. Terry's cut off all his hair, Josh is putting on weight, and they both live in my mum's attic. They also built onto the house over the last year, creating a mancave for Grant, but which everyone else sees fit to invade.

I'm considering, once everything opens, ordering some Chinese and just getting cracking on this story. I think I may wind up having to hate it just to get it done. blah