I fell sick with a creeping crud on Monday, after portents of things to come on Sunday. Here it is Thursday, and I only feel moderately better. Some of my 'tubercular' hack-up reminds me of honey mustard, and today there was ketchup involved. I know. Ick.
I have slept about 20 hours of every day this week, which I hate, but I am unable to do otherwise. I hate being sick and alone. I am trying to start on a knitted sock, but it is slow going.
And then there are creeps on fb that I try to argue with. (Maybe I should say, well, Hitler made good roads! How about that!?) I know, I am almost delirious. Monday night I was mouthing along words to Blue Collar Comedy - other times, I just went "blblblba blablblb." Seriously. I don't think I have ever done that before without the use of recreational drugs.
On the 3rd season of Mad Men. Still loving it.