Uvula and a mystery poem

The uvula is a body part I don't want to think about. It's supposed to just kinda be there, you know? Unfortunately, whatever little virus I have has decided to attack it. My uvula, that is. We've all heard of tonsilitis, right? Well, uvulitis is pretty much the same thing, and I think I've got it. Something tells me I should go to a doctor. But I'd rather not. Instead...strawberry ice cream for breakfast, baby!

On the upside, I can breathe through my nose again today.

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No plans for the weekend. And I'm contemplating being really anti-social on new years eve, too. I don't know if even I am recluse enough for that, though.

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Yesterday, I was going through my word files, getting ready for my LWS (little winter submission), and I found a draft I don't remember writing. And when I read it, I didn't remember what it was about. And it was good. I mean, it needs work, but there were some really cool lines in there, and I don't have any recollection of writing them. That's never happened to me before. Now...how to revise a poem like this? Since I don't remember the impetus to write it to begin with, I could go in any direction. But I'm stumped.

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Starting to worry about money again. I don't do very well with budgets when I don't have the money in my hands. When I was a waitress, I would come home and divide out my tips: 60% for bills, 20% for food, gas, etc., 10% savings, 10% fun. Even if I only came home with $10, I would split it up. And I always had enough...except when I did my taxes and found out I would have to pay instead of getting a return. Anyhow, these days, with direct deposit and debit cards and online bill payers, I am not so careful. Maybe I need to cancel my direct deposit and start hiding my money under the bed.

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Is it bad that I'm already getting anxious about my PhD apps? I've been done with them for a week and I'm already dying to know the results. Oy.