Menthal Cigarettes. Is That Okay With You?

Today, I went on an adventure.
Today, I went to the park.
Today, I went inside a huge outhouse and had a conversation.
Today, everything began to make sense, and for one little moment, I didn't really care that my hair was all over the place and that my face is fat.
But then I got cold and my arms went numb, and my dress was blowing up in the back, and I realized I'm just a foolish little child and I don't know what I'm doing here.
And now I'm sick, and I think I might be getting pnemonia, and my eyes feel like they're burning their own little holes in my head.
I don't like this, I don't like this one little bit.
I am currently sitting in my airy little kitchen, watching big black clouds meander across the huge expanse of pale blue sky.
The sun is lighting up the tops, turning them a pale navy in places, and gold in others.
The top of the mountain is coated in snow like a sprinkling of powdered sugar.
Sometimes, I love being home, in my big old flannel nightgown with a cat on the front, and my hair curled up on top of my head.

I feel like someone is shoving a needle through my brain, directly about my left eyebrow.
Why is this, I wonder? I don't think it has anything to do with my cold/flu/pnemonia deal currently going on.
I truly don't believe I am making any sense.
Watching my yard is completely fascinating.
It is currently a pale yellow, bleached from the snow.
The light brown leaves from the oak tree just outside the bay windows are laying scattered randomly around the lawn.
Every now and them, a breeze with meander through the archway next to my garage, and will sweep these still damp leaves up into the air, twisting them around, bringing them together and then ripping them apart.
This lazy early spring weather is making me tired.