At work anyway. Darn this being-a-grownup thing, eh?
Is it a bad sign that I'm quietly humming King of Pain to myself? I don't know where the song came from, or why it's stuck in my head, but it is.
But truthfully I'm not doing all that badly. No fever, just the unpleasantness of a cold and congestion. My head is a balloon, and my brain is floating somewhere above it, somewhat disconnected.
I'd just rather be through with being ill. I have stuff I'd rather be doing.
I don't have anything clever to write. Maybe later. I should be working anyway....