would be to stay home in bed with a spring cold that put me into a sort of achy catatonia. I'm at least out of bed, but the fever is still an issue and the mucous is resplendent. If anything, there's more mucous now that I'm awake. A friend called me 'Phlegm Fatale' once he called and found my normal 1st soprano voice had turned bass. I'm still a baritone. It is minutely better than it has been--I was at least able to do the taxes, although I made a mistake with paying the electric bill earlier that means my electric bill will be paid but I have no money for food, so doing such paperwork whilst sick probably isn't the best thing to do. I think unless I'm feeling loads better tomorrow there's nothing to do but break down and go to Dr Nesbitt and see if he can get me on the mend, or at least get me so the least little thing doesn't make me wheeze so badly I reach for my inhaler, before realising it's not my asthma.
At least I'm no longer having dreams of large strings of words (slogans, maybe?) that eat other large strings of words, paring them down to small sayings. (Welcome to the first 48 hours.) A friend was of the opinion that I was having an adman's fevered dreams and that I needed to get some of my own.
Speaking of fevered, you have no idea how much I'm having to use the spell checker and go back and look at the grammar of this post. Thank goodness for ibuprofen, but is there a pill that puts your brain back into place during an illness?
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