The wind's been oddly vocal to-day. I woke up about an hour before my alarm to what sounded like the heavy wood gate outside swinging open and shut. I went out to find it firmly latched, and it was some time before I realised what I was hearing was a tree against a fence outside my window, pressed periodically harder against it by the wind. At least I didn't hear, "Heathcliff, let me in!" I'd let Catherine in, of course, but I doubt I'd have much success wooing her.
Boy, the weather here in San Diego, my east coast friends, you can't imagine! I went out to-day and felt at times the need for a jacket! You can't dream of the misery.
Okay, so it's not that bad, but I am glad I won't have to walk to class in it to-night because I dropped my Japanese class. I was almost done with the homework assignment due to-night when I realised every one hour assignment was taking me at least four hours to finish. This is because I need to look up practically every word I write, and check proper verb conjugations, in many cases because it's something the teacher hadn't covered in this class, or in the one I took ten years ago, though I had to accommodate for my poor memories of that, too. I was getting it done, and I actually did well on the katakana quiz, but I simply don't have time for this and the work for my other classes, let alone any work on a comic. I'll probably work on my Japanese in my spare time enough to where I feel like I can hit the ground running with Japanese II another semester.
Certainly that's not what happened this semester. I've been shushing the superstitious part of myself that says getting two very distracting illnesses in a row--one of which made it physically impossible to attend the first day of Japanese class--was an omen of some kind. I'd have liked to have waited to make the decision whether to drop the class until after I was off antibiotics and could have coffee again, but the deadline to drop a class while still getting a refund is Friday. Anyway, it doesn't make much difference if I take it now or later.
Yesterday I got a call from the clinic I went to on Saturday, telling me I had a follow-up appointment to see a urologist. This alarmed me a bit--I still hadn't heard the results of my urine test, and the doctor had told me that if there hadn't been bacteria in the sample, a urologist was going to have to shove a needle up my dick. He didn't put it that way of course--it would be to check to see if I did have bladder cancer. It seemed a bit excessive to me to see a urologist for just a follow-up on a uti. I wasn't able to find out until to-day that my urine test had indeed confirmed I had uti. Apparently the urologist wants to run tests anyway because there was so much blood.
I'm honestly less concerned about the discomfort than I am about the cost. I know I'd charge a lot of money if I had to put things in penises. I hope these "tests" won't amount to more than gentle fondling.
Happy Groundhog Day, folks!
Twitter Sonnet #229
Querulous red fish protrude from Hell Bowl.
"Cranfae" are guards of the red tart berry.
It's said Orson left a Welles shaped ground hole.
Treacle sprang from dormouse Virgin Mary.
Souvenir grapes confer raisin wisdom.
Suitcase catacombs hold scores of Maya.
Salt's a quarter from the vending kingdom.
Coke has forged for us a newer agua.
Water damage reminds us all to drink.
Bear in mind the worst rain's always your own.
Plugholes claim four babies for every sink.
Prevent losses with an orange traffic cone.
Bending trunks bow groaning plank barrier.
The lone bull is a looped plague carrier.