Psychic Lowdown

Yushaa left her wallet at the reservoir, so I went back at 12:30am to get it. The place was not creepy exactly, at least not until you are inexplicably plunged into relative darkness. Before we left at 11+pm, the lights there were still working fine. But when I doubled back to retrieve her wallet, the streetlight that overlooks the stone thingy we lay down on had somehow managed to bust itself, throwing that area into shadow. Excellent. At that precise moment, my pentagram necklace snapped. Wary but slightly bemused, I fixed the clasp and picked up the forgotten wallet at the same time. The moon was high above me, smiling quietly to herself as I cursed and grew steadily warmer. The night air was cool, but I was wearing two layers for my sojourn into town earlier, and sweating bullets did not improve my disposition. Rushed home, to discover that...hey! I have not healed! Bloody *&@#$ hell. If anything, I think my wounds have worsened. And just so we're clear...I do not have a problem with drinking. In fact, eight glasses a day is considered pretty healthy. Blood coated my skin, mixed in with a few malfunctioning white blood cells (did I get that right?) It was teethgrittingly fun to scrape off the partially dried blood while tryng mightily not to roar in pain. Had fun at the reservoir, actually, prior to discovering that my healing rate has dramatically declined. We pigged out and ate and mucked about. The reservoir had its own reservations for the night, but the winds skimmed across the surface of the cool water, bringing a refreshing moistness to their cooling breath. I am seriously out of my depth here. I just don't seem to heal. Perhaps it is time to cauterize the wounds, painful as it sounds. I have a slight headache from the heatiness of my diet today, and I think I really should get some much needed rest before the weekend arrives, and brings with it a resurrection for my darling piano. Oh, wait. Something else happened, but I'm really too worn down to type any further.