  Good day all. And a good day it is. Ok, so not that good. From sleeping with the window open the other day, I have found that my immune system thinks it was a bit too cold that night, and let itself allow me to have a slight cold or sinus infection.
I've been popping that Vitamin C though, getting ready for the big trip next week. And I'll have 'net access too, I think, so even though no one will be reading this during the break, there'll be a ton of backlog from me to you. Considering it a wonderfully belated Christmas present to all the readers. And as for this trip. Totally out of shape. Darn. No promiscuous sex for me. Just kidding, of course. But not only in the bodily sense am I out of shape: I'm also screwed to the fact that I have done nothing in the way of preparation.
Just yesterday, while wearing a pair I bore party to the flimsy button on the front POP its way from my shorts to the floor. I stood and laughed for a long time, thinking, "better than at the beach". So it's time to shop! I don't think I've ever said it on this site, but I loathe shopping. It makes me want to cry and vomit and drown in a puddle of my own tears and upchuck.
Yes, it is literally that bad; however, necessity forces me to do as such, and thusly I shall produce some scuba gear to prevent from dying. Five days and I'm gone. Five days and it breaks the years' long silence between myself and Florida. I've seen the place, it looks great. I can't wait to get there. I just hope the sun setting doesn't get me all sentimental, as it normally does, for some reason.
Not that sentimentality is a bad thing. It's just saddening thinking of myself sitting there reminiscing on days gone by with a semi-smile on my face, and I am all alone. It amazes me sometime how much companionship matters. All alone, what poisons do love from nature bring? 
