That thing I said yesterday, about having vanquished the foul disease from my system? That was bullshit. I am still sick. I woke up yesterday feeling fit and fiddle and, you know, healthy. Two hours in this hellscape of an office and I was back down in mucus town. Today is hardly an improvement, though I feel better now than I did yesterday at this time.

I have trouble writing when I'm sick. It's like I can't *get at* the paper, no matter how many words I write or what order I put them in. I essayed a little yesterday, and came up with an inordinate number of Ums and Uhs and Likes in my mental patter. I'm just going to leave it alone until I'm feeling human again.