It seems I have made something of a fool of myself. The hospital wing is not a good place to be put, regardless of reason, however after more than a week under Madam Pomfrey's authoritatian control, allowed to do little else but stare at the ceiling, take vile tasting potions and think, I have been forced to come to the conclusion that a change of priorities is in order. I seem to be quite adept at sabotaging myself. It's about time I stop reaching for the unattainable.
I was not always by myself in the infirmary, however. Weasley was there for an excruciating three hours, making even less sense than he usually does, and after a conversation this evening with someone who claims to be his mother, I have no wish to come anywhere near to any member of that family again.
Aside from the Weasley invasion, some of you visited. Some of you brought chocolate. Some of you brought your friends. Some of you have very unusual friends.
Humeur actuelle: listless