Gnurrh...

So on Tuesday I may have been mostly dead, but today I am genuinely corpsified. Prac today was exhausting. Plus I didn't sleep because I was stressing over arguing with my sister because I was stressed. Plus I've sort of been leaking tears since seven this morning, mainly feeling unloved and sorry for myself, after trying to argue with my sister again but not succeding because she was too sensible to let me. Sometimes I'm a wet hen. It's not fun.
At the moment I'm reading, after reasonable amounts of assignment work (the definition of 'reasonable' varying depending on whether I'm at a good bit or not):
The Glass Books of the Dream Eaters by Gordon Dahlquist, which I picked up at the library for the title. Searching for a link online, I came across this, which Is Very Cool, because Dave McKean is amazing and shows that however I think I'm flying off on tangents my brain tends to end up in the same place. The book itself is less amazing - it's very meandering and dense. The first pages of the book were hard to get through because of his writing style (he's definitely not writing for ease of reading) but now I find myself wondering of subsequent chapters are more clearly written, of if I'm adjusting. But the three main proponents are, so far, wonderful.
Blindsight by Peter Watts, because it's for free of the internet and I don't read much sci-fi, so it's a nice change.