On Fire

Hello kiddies! Did you know that my workplace is nothing more than a putrid pit of disease? No matter how healthily I eat (8 weeks on the chocolate wagon) and fling myself around in the name of fitness (my butt is still numb from that goddamn bike at the gym), I manage to pick up some bug. Old Bill's been sneezin' from the cube in front and Old Rob's been wheezing from the cube next door, and here I am trapped helplessly in the middle like a stunned mullet. (Well not really like a stunned mullet, it's just that I know someone who gets a kick out of that phrase) Anyway, I have used approximately 87 tissues today, and they were the nasty sandpapery kind. My nose makes Rudolph look positively pastel. It feels like someone is bashing away at my sinuses with a jackhammer. I have been talking shit all afternoon and my forehead is blazing with a fever. Woo. I just took some stuff to get me through the rest of the day, I have my second writing class tonight and it'd be nice to be coherent for it. Then again, quite often the best writing comes from your loopiest moods. Hmmm.