That's my word for today. And this week. Some sort of evil sinus infection has found it's way into my nasal passages and colonized like it was the New World or something. Originally I subconsciously blamed my lovely wife for stealing the covers one night last week, thus giving me the chills. And you all remember what your mother's said when you were younger, right? You'll catch a cold!
Anyway, as my condition progressively got worse over the holiday weekend, I realized it wasn't her fault. It was Paul's fault. Who is Paul you ask? This nice comic artist/writer I know. But he's evil. How do I know? He's from New Jersey. Somehow he sent the Phlegm Phairy down here to infect me. I managed to wrestle her to the ground long enough to smother her with a pillow. But curse her, she left some "presents" behind on said pillow that turned into the Snot Monster.
By the time the Snot Monster reared it's ugly head, I had managed to survive the holiday weekend. Which meant I promptly called my doctor, made an appointment, got checked out, got a prescription, filled it, and started dosing myself with the wondrous of wonders, a Z-Pack.
So now I sit here after two days of medication still a bit woozy and muzzy headed. I've managed to make an attempt at a normal day today (minus the trip to the gym) so I'll be tired tonight. But don't worry Paul, I'll be coming for you. Oh, didn't you know? That's right, I'm headed north in another week or two for a wedding. My brother-in-law is getting married to a Jersey girl so I'm thinking I'll call in a few favors. Maybe she has some friends that could stop by your apartment and talk to that creepy old lady. I'm sure she's some sort of alien or zombie and would love to eat your brain.
Blergh. I think that just used up all my creative writing for the month.