a different kind of malaise

I admit that in some ways I appreciate Florence, but there are limits. She reached that limit the other day when she had the refrigerator moved out, in addition to the two chairs in my room. On the bright side, the center gave me a tidy sum of food vouchers, which are good just about anywhere you can buy food, to compensate.

Last weekend in Katrin’s room I bumped my head against the wall that slopes down. It was a pretty hard blow but eventually the pain went away. The next day though it came back, especially when I chewed. I felt out of sorts and I started to feel as if something were amiss. How would I know if I sustained brain damage? I thought. I saw Tati's Jour de fête with Katrin and enjoyed it but then a feeling of malaise started to come back, as if something was subtly putting pressure on my brain. The people in the metro bothered me. It was a disagreeable, nondescript kind of sensation. Katrin innocently suggested that I might have sustained a concussion; this only sent me on a new wave of malaise, as I can sometimes be a bit of a hypochondriac.

This brush with insanity passed by Sunday, but for all of Saturday I was in this other zone, troubled and irritated.