Jul. 11th, 2002

pseydtonne: Behold the Operator, speaking into a 1930s headset with its large mouthpiece. (shelley)
I called in sick today. I fought off doing that for two days, mostly yesterday. Even though I was able to complete all training tasks yesterday, my brain spent the whole day saying "I wannnna go to bed!"

I don't have a lot to report. Maggie is coming to visit tonight. Yaaaay! Too bad I'm half-dead and I can feel my Eustachian tubes waving at me. I can say the NyQuil still does not put me to sleep at all, but it'll snap any fever like a karate student at a plywood festival.

When I was a kid, I never got sick. I'd get maybe one cold in a year. I got to college and I got sick all of the time. I tend to relate my likelihood of catching a cold with my feelings of exhaustion or a lack of sleep. Working on computers all evening and not giving myself enough time in front of air conditioners probably helped me to get here. I'd like to thank the Academy...

There have been good events recently. Nothing intense, mind you -- merely the ability to hang out with friends, learn a lot about computers, find out I'm capable of being an Aaron-Spelling-level asshole to someone.

You'll have to pardon me, however -- I feel the need to pass out again.

-back to the cage, Dante

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