Dear Diary . . . day by day

Mail is welcome.

Friday, February 25th, 2000 -
I really don't know what to say or how to say it. Yesterday turned out to be another one of those rotten, no-good, very bad days. The afternoon at work was horrid. David was a good friend. Crying loosens up a lot of mucus; I can breathe much easier today, though I'm still awfully snuffly. This is the first day that it doesn't feel like there's something in the top of my lungs, cutting off most of my air.

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	I really don't know what to say or how to say it. Yesterday turned out to be another one of those rotten, no-good, very bad days. The afternoon at work was horrid. David was a good friend. Crying loosens up a lot of mucus; I can breathe much easier today, though I'm still awfully snuffly. This is the first day that it doesn't feel like there's something in the top of my lungs, cutting off most of my air.
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