Huh?

My head is spinning (not just from the congestion).
First day of classes were Monday and as if right on time I woke up sick. This is year three that my body found it convenient to let down the walls of immunity while the germs charged. Freshman year I was sick by the end of the first week, last year I was sick at the beginning of the second week and this year - on the dot. First day of class.

I'll divulge on my class load later because I am feeling completely uninspired to write due to the massive amount of to-do lists screaming my name and whirring my brain. I think I've had quite a few unintelligible conversations with my mom this week because I can't seem to form sentences due to the demanding things running rampant in my head...like when she called for directions of where to look for important paperwork and my jumbled mind told her where to find the phone I want her to send me (which I hadn't yet told her about). Thus the conversation went:
(mom) "Where is it?" (the paperwork)
(me) "The bottom drawer" (directions to the phone)
(mom) "I see a box and other stuff"
(me...logically thinking we are both looking for a phone) "Right, that's it!"
(mom) "What?!? I don't see it!"
(me) "In the box...doesn't it have a picture of a green phone on it?"
(mom) "Yes... what am I doing with it??"
(me) "Sending it to me." (duh)
(mom) "What? Where is the paperwork I need??"
(me) "Oh yeah...that."
(mom) "There isn't a phone in here! There's paint and paintbrushes"
(me) "Oh yeah. I knew that, the phone's downstairs."

Anyways, during my Imaginative Writing class we did an exercise where we had to write a poem using words on the board and base it off of a popular proverb or phrase that we had just put into our own words. Mine was "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink" and I somewhat changed it to: "You can find a door, but you can't make it open" (feeble I know...but again with the not thinking so clearly, and I was tired). But that translated to this:

A door by the edge of a cliff
Why door? Why your impeccable brashness to stop my feet
Blackberry's sharp and thorny close in around my thoughts
Door! MOVE - Be Gone. Away. This needle in my side.
My voice choked and broken bouncing off your thick wall of determination
Open! I yell at you to open. The black cloud suppressing my lungs.
Pressing closer, I'm afraid, I shiver, I'm alone.
Looking deeper my anxieties whir within
One step, two step, my fingers reach for your prickly bramble of a doorknob.
Open. I'm on my way.

Don't look for deep meaning...unless the door stands as a barrier between me and my bed. Because then there might be a screaming match...
Speaking of bed, I'm going to go fall into mine and pray I have the strength to drag myself out of it in the morning.