I am ill. I can taste rust in my mouth. It is comparable to an old bad blood after you had your molar extracted or after you had been kicked repeatedly in the jaw during shower at bootcamp.

I am annoyed at the moment. I went to this crowded bookstore reeking of this biscuity smell to purchase a scriptwriting manual for Scriptwriting class. Of course, I didn't find it. Of course, I had to search the disorganized shelves and to make it a little worse, some obnoxious man would be standing before a stack of paperbacks completely blocking 1/8 of the shelf. Of course I have to come back again some other time provided I am not pre-occupied and go through the same shit all over again.

The blood taste. It is not pretty.