my old bedroom is breezy (with the aid of a brand new super fan) and my parents keep my face cool with bags of peas and blueberries. my dad looks adorable with his new haircut. vicodin helps the just-punched-in-the-nose-five-times-while-doing-flips-underwater feeling. i rest falsely: i still hear everything that is going on around me but somehow still have vivid dreams. i walked back to my apartment (around the block) to look at my beautiful bouquet of flowers and feed my cats and back again, only to realize that the antibiotics gave me a sunburn. cruel. what a cruel, silly joke to play. that, and my return key STILL does not work: i am forced into paragraph hell.