like a cat

I'll claw and hiss if cornered. And, when I really don't feel well, I've realized that my instinct is more on the order of crawling under the front porch and waiting it out. "Don't bother me, I might be dying. I'll let you know if not."

In other news, yes, my throat keeps swelling up. Apparently I'm in the maudlin phase of whatever-this-is, which is not useful because crying just makes already inflamed tissue more swollen.

Living. Apparently I'm just allergic to living.