It's flu season again. What fun.
There is a long laundry list of things I want to write about this week - you only have to barely watch the news to know there is no shortage of subjects - but every time I sit down to think out the right words, I get interrupted by a coughing fit that just laughs at all cough suppressants on the market. I'm not even, strictly speaking, sick at the moment. Not by my standards, anyway. I picked up this nasty bug nearly a month ago and was laid out for about four days (which is pretty close to a world record for me). Since then, however, this militant virus has charged through everyone in my house, burning the houses, salting the fields, and taking no prisoners. Now it is looking back over conquered territory and thinking that a little extra mayhem may be in order.
The short - and less illustrative - version is that I'm fighting against getting sick again. It's a tough battle and I have not lost yet, but the odds are not in my favor. I think I'll be spending the weekend with a lot of hot tea, some chicken soup, and a few good movies. I'll get back to you on the recent flood of absurdity as soon as I feel better. I doubt it will be old news by then.