The dishes are piling up. So's the garbage. There are blankets and pillows
everywhere and I've been nuking food.
Yes folks, I'm sick.
On the 24th I woke up fine. On the 25th I woke up
feeling like Death Warmed Over. Maybe not that bad, but
enough to make me wish I could swap out my head for a new one.
I was feeling a little bit better yesterday, but tripping on a bookshelf
(you pretty much have to loose all sense of balance to do that) and almost onto Spring, and sounding like a feral
animal foaming at the mouth as I try to breath last night I took as a signal
that I probably shouldn't get out of bed any time soon.
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