Who turned on the freaking FAUCET IN MY HEAD?
Amongst the glory that is fall in North Carolina, an "ick" has snuck in. This ick is, to all appareances, the mucus-producing kind.
I can hear my own heartbeat in my ears. Sputum production is waaaay up, vision is blurry, throat is the variety of scratchy that not even a lovely warm cuppa joe can soothe, and the brain is being stomped on by some variety of really pissed-off little multi-legged critter.
So, no post today, except for me whining about feeling icky.
Oh, and perhaps to moan about the work I still need to do, in an ASAP manner. It's a darn good thing I don't ACTUALLY shuffle paper for a living (I'm more an electron wrangler), or else them thar papers'd be slightly damp on their return to their rightful owner. Damp with the sweat of my brow, yes, but damp also from the astounding fluidic output of my cranial region...
Y'all go on and have a better day than I'm having...mmkay?
See you back here tomorrow.