Eyes feel like dying.

I woke up to No Surprises by Radiohead. Still in bed. Going to France today. I miss certain people already. At least now I have time to buy presents. I might not post anything until after Christmas because my parents' internet connection is depressing. Another thing before I go. I've certainly got a level of OCD, because I stop whatever I'm doing if the sheet comes off my bed and I find it really difficult to go to new people's houses. I've got a smoker's cough again. Maybe I should start smoking? That'd give it a real reason to exist. I've got to pack.