The Padres lost Friday when we were there for the game, they lost Saturday, and they will probably lose today too. G is going. I don’t care. That’s a sad thing to say, but it seems I am possessed by the slowest moving cold known to man. By the fourth day, the virus had finally decided to move up into my head.
After doing way too much stuff yesterday, I collapsed into bed and stayed there. Dear G fed me, I dozed and read. Ssssssssssssslllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooowwwwwwwwww mo was me. By bedtime the cold was camped out running a drum circle in the middle of my cerebellum. I record these facts only out of perversity on my way back to bed.