**How can you care?** 'Because I choose to.' **You make it sound so simple.** 'That's because it is simple. Hard sometimes, but simple.'

Saturday, August 13, 2005

I'm home, but not for long. My hands are a fucking mess, one from the bad IV, the other from the good IV. I can barely hold a glass, and typing is painful after a couple of words. Heading to Mom and Dad's to spend the night, in case the right hand (the one where the IV slipped out and made it swell bad) gets nasty.

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